i'm at the beginning of my journey.
for as long as i can remember i've been a fat girl. i have a picture of myself around 3-4 yrs old and this is the only photo i have of myself as a "normal size". to top that off i was short until high school so i was lucky to earn nicknames like "roly poly" and "the egg". kids are assholes. i'm the youngest of 3, yet the only fat kid in the family. mom & dad were/are fat too. diabetes runs in the family as well as heart failure. lucky me! good genes (insert sarcasm here). as i get older i get more & more fearful of being sick & not being here as long as possible for my son. he's 9 & hands down the coolest kid... ever!
i had my first consult in january with a local lapband specialist. well, so i thought. my appointment was preceded by the front office contacting my insurance company for coverage information. once they confirmed my coverage my appointment was set. i spent my first 30 min filling out paperwork (bleh) & watching a video compilation of successful patients oozing over how easy, quick, and affordable this process was for them. wow! ok so this will be easy, right? wrong. my next half of the appointment was with a "patient advocate" who also was a bander (idk if this nickname exists, but it does now). she answered all of my questions then ended with telling me i'm not heavy enough so either i can see my pcp doc about possibly having the required "co-morbidities" as specified by my insurance, or i could gain 15 lbs (hint, hint) but she didn't recommend that... unless i wanted to go that route. i left. heartbroken. defeated.
a few hours later i had an epiphany: what if i was wrong about my height? that means my bmi is surely higher & maybe i could be a candidate after all. i called them back & was referred to my "advocate". voicemail. damn. weeks went by & no reply. that was it, i'd have to struggle & go at it the old fashioned way. but then i kept gaining & soon that 15 lbs was just 2. wth? so i called again, surely i could gain 2 lbs (i know, this sounds terrible) but i really want this. voicemail, again. damn. again, no reply. big surprise. but this time i decided to reach out to another center, surely they can't be as bad as this.
fast forward to this past tuesday. i set an appointment for 8:30am. upon my arrival i had to fill out paperwork, nothing major but, bleh. short wait time then, get this, nurse becky greets me & takes me back where she weighs me, measures my blood pressure & temp. whoa, this is different. we then go back to an office where she sits with me & reviews my history, every detail of the paperwork & information i provided. next i see kristy (ma - med. asst.) who takes me into an exam room where... dun dun dun... she draws blood, runs an EKG, does a breath test. wth. this is friggin' awesome! so wait, does this mean i'm getting banded? we go back to the office where i meet with my surgeon. i said it: my surgeon.
this is happening.
what's next? 6 months of nutrition appointments, an ultrasound of my liver, a scope to see my upper digestive tract & ensure i'm a good candidate. the doc goes over my history with me, again, in detail. this is weird, i've never spent this long with any doctor in my life. ever. we talked for 45 min before i saw nurse becky again to schedule my scope & ultrasound as well as my second of 6 nutrition appointments.
this. is. happening. (if my insurance approves it... fingers crossed)
so, since tuesday i've spent countless hours reading blogs of others who have been banded & i'm totally inspired by their success (and struggles) throughout the process. in reading i decided to start my own. i can see how it adds a level of accountability & support to help me through this transition.
i will beat this. and the lapband will be the best tool to help me.