Yesterday’s visit to the doctor went very well. It was my “final pre-op” visit, just to go over any last questions, sign the necessary release forms, etc. I’ve done a lot of homework up to this point, so my only question had to do with my sleep apnea. When I’ve lost weight in the past, the pressure on the c-pap caused me to swallow a lot of air and wake up with my stomach killing me, spending the next minute or so expelling one huge sustained burp. Apparently this won’t be a danger post-op, I’ll just have to have the pressure adjusted as needed.
I’ve done so much homework and worrying up to this point that I haven’t taken any time to really be excited about what’s going to happen. I worry, that’s what I do. I worry, analyze, dissect, plan, think, rethink everything until it is over with, rarely taking time to stop and enjoy where I’m at. This process if of course no exception, in fact, it has been the height of my meticulous illness. Of course it begs the question…if I can be in control of so many things, why not my weight? I wish I knew. The only thing I can compare it to is someone who follows ANY self-destructive path with full awareness…whether it’s alcohol, drugs, gambling or the myriad other bits of our culture that some people can handle in moderation and some people cannot. Anyway…yesterday I finally took a few minutes to think about the positive changes that this drastic measure will bring. My doctor laughed when I said I hadn’t really thought about all of that too much, and he reminded me that I’ll probably drop about fifty pounds in the first month. I think of it like this…all of my clothes will be extremely loose five weeks from now. I have a lot of work to do in order to make the process successful, but that is a radical change. They also took my “before” picture yesterday, and will take another one in a year. So what will a year bring?
Tonight is the “last supper” at Bluestem…I’m looking forward to that. I know it probably sounds like the group of drunks who take their friend out for one last bender before court mandated rehab, but I don’t care. I’ll cap off my love for fine dining tonight, and see where I’m at six months from now.