Telling People

At first I was really scared to tell people, but, as is typical of me, if I have something going on in my life I want everyone around me to know. So, on Saturday, I told one person, a good friend. Her reaction was kinda "oh. well, that's nice. get a good doctor." On Sunday I told another person, he was much more happy for me.

Today, I talked to a good friend and told her. She screamed with delight and was SO happy for me. With all the appointments happening, my supervisor got curious, and I just told her what I was doing. She gave me some paperwork to fill out that would keep me from losing my job if I was out for more than 12 weeks.

Tonight, driving home from rehearsal, I told my actress about it and we talked about psychiatrists for a bit. She seems really happy for me, even though we've only known each other a couple weeks.

Anyways, I don't think I'm going to keep it a secret anymore. If I want someone to know, I won't feel guilty, I won't let them make me feel like I'm taking the easy route (which I'm sure they will) because they don't have to live in my body. And yes, I'm healthy and happy right now, but I'm also depressed, diabetic, and I want to go hiking and climbing with friends.

Super Phone/Fax Girl

Holy kamoly, today was crazy. I faxed the packet into Alvarado. They called me back and I talked for about half an hour with Carolyn. Went over some details, and got a list of things I need to get done. Called my PCP and set up an appointment with her, got a psychiatrist referral, and a referral for my upper GI.

This afternoon I was making appointments like a madwoman. Faxing info to different groups, calling Alvarado back to get them to fax information to the right people.

On Wednesday I have my psychiatric evaluation with Dr. Ohlson at 11am. Then I'm seeing my PCP at 2:00pm. On Thursday I have an appointment at 8:30am for my Upper GI.

eeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

Discovering Alvarado

Went to the support group and seminar yesterday and all I can think about is that I want this surgery. It's eating me alive I want it so bad. I can hardly wait until tomorrow at work so I can get my packet faxed in and start the process.

At the support group I saw a bunch of skinny women talking about how little they eat. I knew, intellectually, that they were all post-op, but my god, they were just all so damn normal looking. My brain was thinking they must've all been small to begin with, until they started standing up and saying how much they had lost. I was blown away. Everyone had lost over 90 pounds, most more than 100, and a few more than 150. They brought out pictures, and we talked and I felt so amazing, they were all kind, supportive, didn't push me to get the surgery, but just seeing the results, how happy they all are. It's different than reading it online. I could see the joy for life in their eyes.

The seminar was more educational for Mom than for me, but what struck me most was the surgeon speaking, Dr. Julie Ellner. She was so compassionate when talking about former patients. At one point I could swear she wiped away a tear. I felt no judgement from her, just love.

The seminar also talked in depth about their statistics versus national statistics. I like Alvarado's stats very much. Nurses who volunteer to be in the bariatric unit, equipment designed and developed for their surgeons. This is the same group that performed Carnie Wilson's RNY. I trust this surgeon, these past patients, and Alvarado in general.

It will mean flying down to San Diego for the surgery. But if I'm putting my life in someone's hands, I want it to be the best.

Talking to Claire

Cathy, my PCP, finally got a hold of me and wants me to go to a seminar this weekend being put on by a group called Alcatraz or something. She also gave me the phone number of a woman named Claire who is a massage therapist at the clinic who had WLS two years ago and runs a support group.

I called Claire and my god, what a dynamic fun lady. She talked a mile a minute, was intelligent, compassionate, and completely awesome. She invited me to the support group tomorrow morning, and then I'll just stay on for the seminar.

Phone Tag

In order to get my medical records, I have started a brisk and envigorating game of phone tag with my PCP, Cathy. I'm uncomfortable telling anyone about this. Like I'm scared they're gonna judge me, snicker in dark corners and point mercilessly at me: The Girl Who Needed Surgery. So, my phone messages to Cathy are vague, whispered, and probably highly confusing.

Local Surgeon

Did a cursory search on the web. A few women at my work have gone to some place located in southern California, but I want to do this now and Gail said it might be a year before she can get her surgery done. So, I found a local guy, called, began filling out the questionaire.

When I talked to the secretary she set me up with an appointment on February 5th for a group meeting, lecture thing. My individual appointment is going to be February 23rd. It seems so far away, but I know the time will fly. In the meantime, I have to talk to my Primary Care Physician (PCP) and get medical records of weightloss attempts and other health problems.

Decision at Denny's

Went to Denny's today. Which seems highly ironic. Three fat people eating huge breakfasts and talking about Weight Loss Surgery. But, that was the situation. My mother, my father and I all munching on sausage and hashbrowns, pancakes and eggs, talking about WLS.

What brought this on? Well, I'd been reading about and eavesdropping and being all skeptical and cynical about WLS for years. I knew a few people who had had it done. But never quite felt right about it. Until my Dad mentions a family friend who he saw the day before and was amazed at how in one year, this giant talented woman was now a skinny talented woman. He wanted to know more, I obliged and practically gave a lecture on the subject of WLS.

Came eventually to the point where my dad asked why I hadn't ever looked into it for myself. I gave the stats on death and nutrition supplements. Then said that the real inhibiting factor was that insurance would only pay 80% of the cost of surgery. Mom and Dad said they would help pay the other 20%.

Faced with the prospect of actually really being able to have this done blew me away. So... I went home, and researched.