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:scared2:I hardly know where to begin. There are so many possibilities. There are so many fears. I know that others share them, but it's so terrifying when it's you. I've been reading so much about all the good and bad things that could happen, and t

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Jinx

It has happened to me three times. I'll find a great web site, like this one, connect with people who have the same surgery date as I did, February 10, feel like I really have a lot of support, until after the surgery, when everyone just sort of disappears.   I have posted, asking how everyone who had surgery the same day as I did are doing. Nothing.   I understand that people get busy. I understand that people get better and move on. But it doesn't stop me from feeling sad, wondering why it always seems to happen--this isn't the first time. Am I so lucky that I just happen to fall in with a group of people who, once they are better, just can't be bothered? Do they forget how terrified they were?   Maybe I have abandonment issues--my mother died when I was nine, my father was an alcoholic, and not available. I dealt with physical and emotional neglect. Maybe I just want a bandster buddy, the way it seems so many people have. I read about those who have made some kind of connection and I want that.   It can't be blindness, at least not on this web site, because no one can see anyone else, unless, of course, they post pictures. But that's not the same as a face-to-face meeting. Support groups I'm in do have that barrier. I have no problem dealing with that, and I'm not the kind of person who feels sorry for myself. This has happened to me enough times to make me wonder just what it is about me that causes me to fall in to this situation?       Guess I just needed to write it all out.
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Guess I'm having a fit!

I got a letter, well, some kind of agreement from my surgeon's office which asked me to agree to continuing therapy, cognative behavior specifically. I don't have a problem with that. So I signed the letter and sent it off yesterday. It came back today. My roommate checked the address and it was correct, so I don't know why it was returned.   lLate this afternoon I got a call from the patient liaison at my surgeon's office asking if I'd returned the letter. I said yes, never thinking it would be returned. Then she asked me about my cardiology exam. I told her that I'd had one in June, but it was my understanding that I might have to have another one because the anesthesiologist doesn't want the tests to be any older than six months. I don't mind taking it over, especially since I know what to expect. (I hope!)   The liaison asked me to call my primary care doctor and have them fax the report to the surgeon's office. When I spoke with my doctor's nurse, she said they couldn't find the report. I know they had it because the last time I saw my doctor I asked her about it and she read it to me.   I'm mad! I feel like a kid who's been disappointed. I shouldn't have to do this stuff again; it should already be there, and how, why! could they lose the freakin' report?!   I can fax the letter to the surgeon's office tomorrow from work, and the nurse assured me that they'd find it, or have the cardiologist send them another copy, but boy! does this upset me!   I know that I should take every minute of every day to prepare myself for the surgery, and I think I'm doing that, but there's a part of me that wants everything to be done!
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What a day!

Today was full of stress, I guess you could say. I found out that a coworker and friend posted her “anger” at me for not telling her I was going through with the lap band surgery. She didn’t mention my name, but when I saw the title of her thread I knew what it was about. She called me today and is acting as though nothing was wrong. She probably feels safe because I haven’t visited the site to which we both belong for quite some time.   My best friend is going to have surgery on her hand, probably late September. This will be the second one, and she’s not exactly an ideal patient. She won’t be able to do a lot of things for a few days, and of course, I’ll take care of her, but today I feel selfish, probably because right now regarding my own journey.   A man who is a library patron, and has had other services from the organization for which I work, and with whom I’ve had a friendly relationship, until today, said somethings that really ticked me off. They were ethnic slurs against a fellow employee. It happened at the end of the day, and I wound up hanging up on the guy.   My cousin got banded today in Memphis. She promised to call and let me know how she’s doing. I’m excited for her, and just a little envious. But that’s the best part of my day. I’m glad it’s over!
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Psych eval, in two parts

I had my psychological evaluation today, well the second part, which was all true and false--567 questions! A friend from work read the test to me, and it took the better part of three hours. I talked to the psychiatrist last Monday, and he was very nice. He seemed impressed with me, though I have to wonder how much of that was because I was blind. People sometimes think that what a sighted person would be expected to do is admirable in someone who is blind. Anyway, I’m glad I read a lot on this board about the evaluation, because I was aware that many of the questions were phrased in such a way as to make one think they should have different answers, but they were the same as some I had already given. And nothing about losing weight. Guess they just want to see if I’m really crazy! Now all I have to do is keep my fingers crossed to see what my service provider says. If anyone reads this, please wish me luck!
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Food and Feelings

Well, I thought about writing a poem, but I’m not coming up with anything clever right now, so I’ll just write.   I’m obsessed with food. I’ve just had potatoes and eggs, and I wish I could have something sweet, but not just a small piece of cake, or five cookies. I wish I could go on a binge n have glazed doughnuts, an apple fritter, Mother’s oatmeal cookies, some pound cake, banana pudding, maybe ice cream to go with the cake   Even as I’m eating something, I’m thinking of what I can have next.   What is it that I want? What can replace sugar for me?   I know how all this sugar effects my body, carrying an extra one hundred fifty, maybe sixty pounds.   Even as I eat, I think I’m not enjoying, not savouring the food enough, and I need the taste of the sugar to be continuous, never-ending; so I fill my mouth full of the sweetness. Maybe it’s only satisfying as long as I’m eating it. Every time I hear a bag rattle I wonder what’s in it. Especially if it sounds like i could be cookies.   I want to loseht, but I keep eating sweets.   If I could find the key, understand what changes I need to make, how to break the cycle, if I could just read this to someone who could help me. If I can be a little ahead of the game before I know for sure if I’m elegible for the lap band …   Add a cinnamon roll to the list
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What If, and Untitled: Two Poems

This is what I came up with today, while fighting the cookie monster at work. But I didn't have any. And I feel like I really get it--it's time to stop talking and doing. But I'm still a mass of contradictions, or so it seems.   What if I get the band? What if I don’t? Sometimes I think that I will make it, but what if I won’t? What if, when I get the band, I become afraid? What if, when I get the band, I know I have it made Why does sugar call to me--a sweet siren song? Why can’t I resist when I know giving in is wrong?! I love the taste of sugar, which is sometimes not enough; Good choices? I can make them, but there’s always the bad stuff! What if I can’t eat the way all good bandsters should? What if I succeed, and people say, “Girl, you look good!” What if my port flips, the band slips, or sugar calls? Do I have just what it takes to do this thing at all? What if I stay focused on the tasks that are at hand? Get to a place where I can be considered for the band? I think that’s what I really want, in spite of all my fears; To get the band, increase my life by many, many years I am sad because food is not my friend. I must find a way for this love affair to end. It’s time for me to step up to the plate. Take the plunge before it is too late. Hard to let go, that’s all in my head. Fill the void with something else instead. Sometimes I think I know just what to do. “The answer’s there,” I say, “in front of you.” And still the taste of sweet things call to me; Although the harm they do is plain to see. I’m sad to think how much less I must eat, Not have cookies for comfort, but for treats. It seems so simple; yet I don’t know why I can’t always fight the urge, though I try! I may not find the answers that I seek. Day by day I’ll be strong, not always weak. I know the things that I must do to win. I also know that I never will be thin. By doing what I must to reach my goal, I, not food, will be in control. ?
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Am I the only one who feels this way, or What's the use, part 2

I want to eat sweets, as many as I can stand. I don’t want to exercise. I want help, and I don’t know where to get it. I can’t make anyone understand why I want to scream! It’s an effort for me to get up off the floor after exercising, out of chairs, and we won’t talk about going up and down stairs. I have to stop and rest. I just want to lay down and eat cookies. I think about cookies even as I’m eating a meal. I’m freakin’ huge, and I can’t make the stupid physicians’ group understand that I want this band, and no one has any suggestions. And maybe I don’t even want the thing I’m frustrated, angry, depressed, and cookies have been the one thing I could always turn to when I felt like this. What the hell would I do if I got the band and this happened? I read somewhere that people with a “sweet tooth” have less success with the band.   Sweet tooth?! I’m a freakin’ emotional eater! I’m not really motivated, I hate exercising! Yeah, I do it, halfheartedly, and nothing pisses me off more than some well meaning friend or family member saying, “Oh, just do it!” “Well, if I don’t want sweets, I just don’t buy them.” “You just have to make up your mind and do it.”   What a crock!
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What's the use?

Sometimes I wonder what’s the use? I exercise, but I’m tired while I’m doing it. I feel like it’s not going to work. I went to a seminar yesterday. So what? Everything I do feels like a huge effort Yesterday when my friend and I were getting in to the public transportation to come home, another passenger said, “I think the heavier person should ride in front.” I didn’t hear the entire comment, but I was fairly certain it was about me. My friend basically told her to mind her own business. My trainer is willing to write something as proof that she worked with me; my therapist, I haven’t asked because when I first brought up the subject, she thought it was a “terrible surgery” and that I didn’t need it. My former OA food sponsor says she isn’t “a proponent” of weight loss surgery, but she was willing to write something. I said no, because I wouldn’t want her to do anything that goes against her beliefs, and it probably wouldn’t do any good anyway. Before I exercised, and even while I was, I felt depressed. It’s not as bad now, but it always starts out that way. Who do I think I’m kidding?.
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Welcome to My Pity Party

Thursday, April 17, 2008. So how important is this to me, really? I saw my doctor, and I don't know what I was expecting, but I didn't get it. I guess I was hoping she'd submit a referral for the surgery. What she said was that she wasn't sure how much Pacificare would pay for, that she could refer me to surgeons but she didn't think anyone at the medical center where I see her had experience with bariatric surgery, and we both agreed that it would be best to have someone who knew what they were doing. It's not that she wasn't supportive, but she wasn't as happy as I thought she would be, and she was the one who brought it up during my last visit. She did agree that it might be the best way for me to go, but she also encouraged me to talk to my therapist about behavioral modification. I almost feel that she wants me to try other things before I decide on the lap band or maybe she'd rather I do something else altogether. It just seems like she should be more involved, to me. I told her about going to OA, but not my entire weight loss struggle, or journey, or whatever you'd call it. Maybe she can only submit requests to my IPA, maybe it's because I'm scared, and that's why I'm letting her reaction bother me. I don't know how to explain to someone who's never been there, that I need something that's going to give me portion control. Sometimes, yes, I can have a piece of something, but most of the time that ain't hapenin. Chewing gum, drinking water, not buying the stuff doesn't work with, as my doctor said, any consistency. I feel like just giving up. All this time I've been researching, and now--just like that!--I give up? Did I really want it? I felt some excitement, and hope, too. I was seeing myself thin. I have the names of two doctors, one has been banded, the other, I know, offers free seminars. I wrote down the address and phone numbers. I just assume Pacificare won't pay. Do I want to?   What a sorry son of a bitch I am! I went to the vending machine at work, because I just had to have something sweet. Thinking I'd bought three packages of Oreos, and it turned out I had three packages of corn nuts! One of my co workers bought them from me because she loves them, and I got my Oreos, but jeeze! what atrip!   I've just eaten two. It's no problem for me to eat twelve cookies just like that! There's a song by a singer-songwriter with the title, "Look Within." I know as I'm crunching down on those suckers that even though they taste good, I'm trying to erase feelings? Looking for instant gratification? I guess I feel like I want to jump out of my skin. Sometimes I want to scream. I wish I could be satisfied with one cookie, or a piece of cake or pie.   Well, I'm still going to keep putting one foot in front of the other. Something just won't let me do otherwise.   Debbie
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Courage or fear?

:confused:Last night I couldn't stop thinking about so many things. I'm scared and I haven't even seen my doctor yet. So why am I even pursuing getting the band? Because my lower back hurts if I stand too long, because I used to be able to walk really fast and I can't do that any more, because I hear myself trying not to breathe like I've just been exercising for an hour. And I'm freaking out about the thought of something inside me. What if it doesn't work, and my body rejects it for some reason? And smaller portions of food, and not being able to eat sweets; really having those choices taken away from me, but that in itself is a choice, one I'm choosing to make. I need to look in to why I'm so depressed about that. Oh, I know it's partly because cookies are comfort food for me, and I know that when I was growing up there wasn't enough food much of the time, so I sneak it now, and hide it. But I feel like there's more. I'm afraid of having that taken away from me, and I need to get to the point where I'm more afraid of gaining more weight, and sometimes I am there. And I keep coming back to this site; I love it here, so there must be some part of me that's saying, "Come on, girl, just keep putting one foot in front of the other." So I'll go to see my doctor on Thursday, and I will do just that. Because I think of the other side of the coin, too, the thinner me, the one everybody told me was so pretty when I was in high school. I want her back.
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