A few weeks ago I had my first meeting with my psychiatrist regarding my weight loss surgery. I’m anxious over not having an official surgery date and every day that goes by feels incredibly long. January is just around the corner and I need to eat as many Qdoba burritos as possible before then*.
I’d like to reiterate that I 100% understand and respect the choice to keep this surgery private. It’s just like any medical procedure or diagnosis. For me, it helps to talk about this, process it through writing and hopefully share a positive experience that might take away some of the stigma surrounding this surgery.
During my first appointment we covered a lot of ground. He asked me if I would be okay if my relationship with my boyfriend ended. I replied a tentative ‘yes’ because I have no idea how things are going to change for him, but I know it requires him changing his lifestyle to accommodate mine. That’s a huge ask.
“Well, the reason I ask,” the doctor said, “is because some people like their partner bigger.”
I sat on this for a moment. “Why don’t you have a dating service side hustle to hook those dudes up with chicks like me? I could be married right now.”
It’s amazing they’ve given me the go ahead on this.
“Has anyone in your family struggled with their weight?” he asked.
“Yes, my mother and my father…” He opened his mouth to ask the next question. “My maternal grandmother…patnernal grandmother…pater-”
“…nal grandfather. My maternal great…”
He told me that in the first year I’d lose roughly 30% of my weight, putting me around 170lbs which is 15lbs lower than the lowest weight I reached on my own. My sleep apnea will go away! That’s great news because I am SICK of it. An integral part of my c-pap didn’t make it with me to New Orleans last week and I tortured my roommates with my snoring. Like, it became an open house discussion. I also had two sleep apnea attacks that week which was the most I have endured in that small of a time frame. Now there’s this super fun thing where the vacuum cleaner hose doesn’t fit tightly with the mask, it disconnects and sprays distilled water air in my face while making a loud WOOOOOOOOOOOSH noise. Please take 2/3 of my stomach now.
I’m grateful for all the support of my friends and family. So many have been eager to set up dinner dates with me and I look forward to that time with my friends. I am concerned about how I can socialize with some of my friends post-surgery. Telestrations or Mancala, anyone?
The more I think about it, the more positives there are to this. Of course there’s the health and being irresistible to all men (so they say) stuff, but random things specific to me and my quality of life. For example, the smaller I am, the less yarn I will need to buy to knit a sweater and the less time it will take to complete it. For a month after the surgery I don’t have to cook or food shop AT ALL. I have clothes from sizes 12-20 taking up valuable closet real estate which means that I won’t need to buy any clothes for a year. What will I do with all this freed up time? Well, grad school, but also Telestrations or Mancala, anyone?
Next on the schedule is Immersion Day. I’ll spend the whole day with the entire hospital team learning about their roles, the surgery process and what to expect after. The follow up is lifelong, and while that may seem like overkill to some I immediately breathed a sign of relief over having access to ongoing support. Once Immersion Day is done I need to complete three hour long workshops, see my psychiatrist again and meet with a nutritionist a few times. Then my real work begins.
*Obviously these comments are jokes, but Qdoba is really, really good, you guys.