My first Barix appointment

Jul 17, 2010

I call and make an appointment to find out about the surgery. I don't tell anyone - not even my hubby of 30 years - that I am going on this wild goose chase. It's ridiculous. Why am I even contemplating finding out about the surgery? I have long since felt that this is "the easy way out" and people just need to stop eating so much and exercise more. I mapquest and drive headfirst into an abyss - what the heck am I doing? I almost turn around several times....I look longingly at every  McDonalds, Wendy's, Dunkin Donuts, Arby's I pass - it would be soooooo easy to just pull in and blow the appointment, but something drives me on. I easily find Barix Clinic after a little over an hour of driving. The first thing I notice when I park and walk in is that this is a beautiful building with huge windows and lots of open airy light filled space. The second thing I notice is that the entire waiting room/lobby is filled with oversized chairs - chairs that look like they are substantial and can hold my giant a** without me feeling as though I'm squeezing myself into a vise. I nervously walk up to the front desk and a very pleasant woman behind the counter smiles warmly and welcomes me. I mumble my name and that I have an appointment, I sign in and without making any eye contact I quickly  grab some literature on a nearby table and find a seat . As the door opens and more people file in I steal glances and determine who is thinner than I am, and how is fatter. I feel down when someone walks in who is thinner, and relieved when someone walks in who is fatter. What is wrong with me? I sigh. My entire life has been lived around food, weight and my appetite - what to eat, what not to eat, what do I weigh, how do I look.......

After 20 minutes or so someone comes out and calls my name along with several others. We all walk tentatively after her not looking at each other - keeping our eyes on the floor, we are all feeling self conscious. We file into a room and no one chooses a seat in the front row! This strikes me as funny - it's like church, no one wants the preacher staring directly at them and exposing them for what they are - SINNERS! I settle down and busy myself with getting a pen and notebook out of my purse - shut my cell phone off, etc. At the top of my notebook I write: GASTRIC BYPASS SURGERY. I get a butterfly feeling in my stomach. I look around - no one else has a pen and note taking material. Just me being my obsessive self. Just then the door opens and this eensy teensy 98 pound woman strides in. She walks up to the front of the room and in a heavy european accent (what is she, Swedish? Russian? Polish? I have no clue....I realize I'm not paying attention to what she is saying because I'm trying to figure out how the heck an immigrant got to be working at Barix) announces a welcome and introduces herself as a surgeon.

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