DaniDragonfly

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Yup ... it is THAT time ... the time where I pull off the shade and expose my ugliest of truths.   Below, you are going to see some scary ... scary pictures. These are images that cause my insides to curl up and contract. It is so incredibly difficult to reconcile these images with myself.    Clearly, this was never how I saw myself... even in the depths of self loathing, I never looked this bad.
This lovely photo is from my 37th birthday ... this would be one year and 5 months ago.

This one makes me laugh because of the look on my face and the sign hanging on the wall behind me. This would have been from the same year ... we're wrapping Christmas pressies ... so early to mid December.
 


*shudders*

Now for some "afters" ...

As most of you know, in November of 2010, I had a Sleeve Gastrectomy. Since having this procedure completed, I am most pleased to report that I have lost a whopping 84lbs! Not only that, but I have gained mobility, health and an overwhelming freedom to do the things I love ... most importantly ...
*snort* ... he appreciates that, too :)



These were both taken last week (on the 15th, not the 14th ... that camera date hates me!) I was headed to work and got Hubs to snap a couple of photos. I still have 65lbs to go to get all the way down to my original goal ... but those jeans I am wearing are 16's ... and that is down from barely squeezing into a 24wide.  
It's funny, you know ... I even look at these 'afters' and feel sick to my stomach. The ego is a funny little (or largely out of control) thing. I am so happy I made the decision to go forward with this life changing procedure. The weight is coming off very slowly now ... like a pound or two a week at best ... but it's still coming off.   I have changed so much in the past 5 months, it's almost scary. I booked a trip to a strange city to meet someone who, although she means the world to me - and I believe we are 'sisters from other misters', I have never met her in person before ... and this time last year it would have NEVER happened.    I guess it's true that you should never say never.    My husband is nearly bursting with pride at the ways I am changing. He told me the other day that my first goal (which is 26 more pounds) should be sufficient ... and maybe I'll stop trying to lose after that. HA! I love it! He makes comments all the time about me 'picking up another guy' while I am out. As if ... I couldn't have built myself a better life partner if I had been given the primordial goo to do it myself. But I do love that he says it. Gives me a little tickle.   I guess this brings me to the end of this post. This is a hard one for me to put out there. I'm baring all in this one ... be gentle - K?   D-Out

Originally posted on "flightlessdragon.blogspot.com"

Here I sit ... just four days from my big day. I'm frightened ...  like, laying awake in bed at all hours of the night, frightened ... or heart racing into my stomach, frightened - but perhaps not for the reasons one might think. I'm not so much afraid of something happening during the surgery ... I mean a little, but really - I have a better chance of stroking out in a rage over one of my boss' bullshit stunts, than I do of actually dying on the operating table ... and all things aside, I am pretty healthy - thank heaven.   No, my fear is somewhat more bone deep than that. See, I have allowed my personal disgust in myself to colour every facet of my life for many, many years. I see the fact that I haven't been able to control this very personal thing, as not only a colossal failure, but a massive character flaw. I mean, please ... how could anyone allow themselves to gain 150 pounds, right? I did it, and  still can't provide an answer to that question. It keeps me from fully participating in my life. I have not applied for jobs (and subsequently suffered along in the one I have in a very unhappy manner), not gone to public functions, not  attended work functions - even award ceremonies where I won stuff, not gone swimming with my children ... not even spent any sort of physical time with friends. In fact, the few people I call "friend" are mostly voices on the phone (no - not just in my head) and letters on a computer screen.   And so ... sitting on the edge of the precipice that I have spent nearly two decades digging ... with the impending promise of a bridge across staring me right in the face ... I'm scared shit-less. No safety net now, sweet pea. No excuses. You are here ... on the eve of the first day of the rest of your life. Whatcha gonna do now?    I haven't been able to articulate this - even to myself until today ... but THIS is the fear I am feeling.   See - I have been researching weight loss surgery for around 3 years. In fact, I started off wanting an entirely different procedure, and have come to this one (Gastric Sleeve Resection) by way of information, safety, results and availability. In that time, (and mostly in the past year and a half) I have spent much of my energy on either campaigning to make it happen, talking myself into actually doing it and convincing the nay-sayers in my life that it is a sound decision. My mother being "Nay-sayer number 1".   See, Mom has not been very supportive of this decision. At first, I thought it was because she was simply worried about my safety and having any sort of surgery can be dangerous - so I tried to assuage her fears by providing data on the relative safety of the procedure. It didn't seem to help. I have come to realize over time that her lack of enthusiasm appears to come from a slightly darker place. I've thought a whole lot about it and I think she feels embarrassed about me having this. Let me state (for the record) that it is a bitter pill to swallow, when your mother's opinions are the very echo of your own self deprecation.
      Obviously, the first thing that jumps into anyone's mind is: How could she be embarrassed ...  first of all, it isn't about her and second of all, nobody knows about it? (Am I right?) But, see ... here's the thing ... she has told everyone in her world about it. The women she works with ... my sisters ... her friends (many of whom I have known for many, many years) ... and she's been running this twisted little opinion poll for the past several months regarding the validity of having this type of procedure done. And not that this isn't bad enough all on its own, but she's been presenting the various opinions to me as though she had been defending my decision to these people (passive aggressive, much?) ... when the reality is that she had absolutely no right to say a bloody word to ANYBODY about this. It is not hers to share. This is mine, and I wish like heck I had never told her I was having it done.     My favorite part was when she told me (just this past Saturday) that after having a long heart to heart with herself, she thinks that if she had such a huge amount of weight to lose (as do I) ... and this surgery was available to her ... that she'd likely opt to have it done, too. (This from a woman who had her throat stripped and part of her palette reconstructed so she would no longer snore, for crying out loud!) I sat there, looking across the table at her - dumbfounded. She went on to say that maybe this wasn't necessarily the "easy way out" after all ... though most people seem to think that it is ... and that even though she feared I might be going about this backwards and "dealing with my problems from the outside in" (as my 23 inch waist-ed, 26 year old sister so sagely commented) ... that she supported my decision, in spite of everything else. {This is where something snapped inside my head ... I said very little - a simple 'well ... anyone who thinks there is anything 'easy' about what I am doing here is welcome to say that to my face ... and perhaps waddle a mile in my crocs before they make such an arbitrary, unfeeling and glaringly untrue comment about something they clearly know nothing about.' I then gave an unenthusiastic 'thank you' for her "support" and promptly changed the subject ... because any other course of action would not have had any happy outcome.}     This is my MOTHER, people. The person who is supposed to have my back - NO-MATTER-WHAT! The person who provides my alibi when I freak out and go postal on my employer ... the person who picks up the pieces of my shattered ego and spit-glues them back together ... the one who kisses the owie better and makes the pain go away. What-tha-hell? This is the same woman who has BEEN there for every event that led to this "(apparently not so) personal failure" of hers mine. She was there for pretty damned near all of it ... and she's been there for the past 20 odd years it has taken me to forge some kind of life for myself out of the rubble. How can she possibly think that ANY of this has been easy? I've paid the fine ... I've done my time and it is time for me to finally move past this. Cripes, I have had so much therapy over the years, I have undoubtedly put a few shrinks' kids through medical school ... it is unbearable to think that she doesn't 'get' this... and clearly, she doesn't. And I don't know how to tell her.   I talked to my long time friend this morning. She knew me when I was "me" ... or at least the me I best relate to. She has been there for much of the "stuff that brought me here", too. She has never had a weight problem ... not ever. She shouldn't be able to 'get' this ... but when I told her about the conversation that happened on Saturday, she had the following to say about it: (not a direct quote - I wanted to ask her to type everything she just said in an email, but felt that might be a little weird ... but I really needed for someone on the outside to see and say something like this) 'Look - I think I can safely say that you are one of the strongest people I know. I have watched you struggle with this (weight issue) for a long time. I have seen how the way you see yourself has robbed you of an awful lot of opportunities. I think you have done the work. I don't think for a second you are doing anything backward and can't see how anyone who knows the first thing about you could think - and certainly not say - something so stupid. Your outside image is simply disconnected from the person you are inside ... that is the most simple way to see this ... and it is merely time to correct that.'  She went on to say that she had one "stupid moment" after I got my date where she feared I might change ... but realized I have always been the same person ... just not an active participant in my life for too many years.    She is such a talented wordsmith, and I am not doing this justice ... I really wish I had gotten her to email the comment to me. The point is, she gets it. She understands... and I need that right now. My husband has been his usual rock-star self ... and I am grateful beyond belief ... but I still need for the people in my world to really get this ... really embrace what I am trying to do here. Am I being too selfish in wanting that? Isn't it okay for me to just expect it?

So ... it took me over five years to settle on the idea that WLS might be something I should consider doing. At that point I began researching what was available (in my area) and what was involved. First, I wanted to be put on the waiting list for the band procedure in New Brunswick, but by whatever slick interaction by fate, I was instead put on the list for VSG at the VG in Halifax.

That was right around a year ago now, I think. I was summoned to a meeting on March 1st 2010 as one of the candidates for the next group of 50 surgeries (which from what I understand is pretty quick). From there, we were all told that "It starts now - the next point of contact will come within four to six months". I got a lengthy questionnaire in the mail approximately a month later.

It is now August.
I know that this is a process. I also know that patience is a virtue I was not born with.

I emailed Diana Lawlor twice. (I'm not proud of myself) You can't really blame me though ... right? It is torture waiting. On the second email, she replied that my date is September 29th at 10:00 am. I have had my full week of fluids and done all of the things they have asked ... except the exercise. I am so uncomfortable and so bleedin' hot all the time. The simple act of vacuuming my living room area rug turns me into a dripping mess (all 6' x 9' of it). Plus I have been swollen up like a pregnant woman all summer. I went to my GP and she said it had something to do with my veins leaking - which causes fluid retention??? I've never heard of that one before ...

Either way, instead of losing 10-20 lbs in this time, I have actually gained 12 since they weighed me. If I wind up disqualified from WLS because I can't lose enough weight on my own ahead of time ... I'll ... I'll ... well ... I really don't know WHAT I'll do ... but the sick and twisted irony of such a thing may, in fact do me the rest of the way in.

Oddly, I do find myself in a very high state of anxiety about this. It occurs to me that I have hung a great deal of hope on this surgery. I mean, I'm not a complete moron ... I know it is going to be a MASSIVE adjustment and is certainly far from the easy way out - but to have this kind of tool. To have the ability to force yourself to eat less food ... and NOT be hungry?? OH HELL TO THE YEAH! (Sorry - got a little excited there)

What I would give to just feel well enough to be able to exercises without thinking my bones will collapse under the pressure. Oh and to be active and enjoy it?? I used to be a cross country skier, for heaven's sake! I did this crap for FUN!! To be able to do that sort of thing again would be divine.

I am not in this because I think I am going to waltz away with a bikini fit body - not by any means ... I just want to be healthy. I want to be fit. I want to go out into the world and NOT feel the way I do ... It would be super if the next time my arsewipe boss calls me a name behind my back (though tragically close enough for me to hear), it's minus the "fat" in front of it. <--- yes, I know that is a whole other issue ... one goal at a time.

So. I am counting the days until my clinic day and hopful that the wait after that is not too long before I actually have a surgery date. Based on what I am seeing on the boards in Nova Scotia, it should be around a month. Not sure if that is just to meet the surgeon, or if that is for the surgery ... either way, it would be fan-freakin-tastic to have a jump on the new year.

I hope to start posting more on this site now that the time is near.

Until next time...

Dani