SweetnessandGrace
Not much to tell. I am 55, I am incredibly obese. I work from home, which is a good thing because I have social anxiety disorder, originally diagnosed as agoraphobia. All concerned think this is due to poor self image (duh!). My world consists of my bedroom, where I read and poke around on the computer, and sleep. Lots of sleep. My world also includes my office where I do medical transcription for a local hospital. I work a split shift since I can't physically sit for eight hours in a row.
I started looking into WLS a couple of years ago, and finally got the notion to go for it. I dragged my DH to a seminar, which led to my first consultation. I had double coverage insurance (mine and DH's), but one wanted five years of BMI over whatever, and I had once lost 40 pounds in that five years, which put me below the required BMI. The other insurance required I be an employee for 3 years, and I had not reached that point yet.
I finally hit my 3 year anniversary at work and started the process of WLS again. Got approved, got a date, and waited. While waiting I started doing more research and decided I had made a mistake in choice of WLS, so went back to MD, got approved by him, got approved by insurance, got a NEW surgery date, and then found out the hospital was going to require almost $15,000.00 downpayment! Also, surgeon's downpayment was almost double from what it had been the year before, now $2000.00. Holy Crap! The hospital considers this an elective surgery, in the same rank as plastic surgery. I am going to file an appeal, but I have very little hope of winning.
I believe my life is dependent on getting this surgery. I believe I am fading away (not physically, obviously), and I will soon be nothing more than a wisp of fog. I already don't travel to see family. I already come up with excuses to not attend family functions. I never answer the phone or the door. The only time I go out is to MD or for a ride in the car. DH does shopping, etc. I don't even walk out to the mailbox. Can't tell you the last time I went out into the backyard. My life sucks and I know it but feel helpless to change it. I hurt, I ache, I loathe me and never pass up the opportunity to tell myself this. I know I am ugly, have been all my life, so that doesn't bother me, but the fact that I can't go anywhere or do anything because of my size makes me sick to my stomach. I really am a waste of skin.
Well, that was nasty, wasn't it? Didn't mean to end up on such a sour note, but that is my life in a nutshell. I NEED this surgery the same way I need air to breathe. I am dying.
