Lyra

Dooter you just need to keep this mantra in mind: I am a kicka$$ bodaciously beautiful woman My fat lipids fear me and shrivel away to nothing I am the awesome! The world is my 2 oz steak tartare I am a kicka$$ bodaciously beautiful woman! On the serious side, everybody's body looses weight at different speeds from different places. Example: My face and thighs lose weight before my chest. And it takes a Herculean amount of weight loss for my stomach to go away. You'll get there, just think positive!

I do not know whether I was then a man dreaming I was a butterfly, or whether I am now a butterfly dreaming I am a man. ~Zhuangzi I've always had crazy dreams full of intricate plot, color, surround sound, and sci-fi material but last night was a doozie. Let me explain, I almost always know when I'm dreaming. You see, when I was a little kid I had really, really, really intense dreams (I still do but as an adult they don't bother me) and one day I decided that I was a 'big girl' and didn't need to cry for my mom or dad. So after I would wake up from such techno-color dreams I would mentally envision myself on a white horse (yeah, I was horse crazy) galloping through a meadow with kitties and puppies and whatnot (so trite!). I would slow my breathing and forcibly calm myself down (breathing helps everything, I swear!). I only learned as an adult when I was being taught meditation that I had been doing a version of that all those years. Kinda neat, huh? Anyway, I remember my dreams almost daily so it became an automatic defense until one day I was in the dream and realized that I was dreaming and was able to calm myself down while still asleep. That means that even 'scary' dreams are pretty hilarious when you know that they're not true. Typically I only have the traditional 'nightmares' when I'm either stressed or sick as I think it sort of short-circuits my ability to influence that aspect of my mind. So last night I'm minding my own business all snuggled into my comfy bed and I kept waking up in a full on clammy sweat. It was like I had just run a full marathon at Olympic breaking speeds. Yuck! I don't really remember what I was dreaming (which is odd for me) but I remember a feeling of being confined and powerless. There may also have been a panda bear. (Yeah, it doesn't take a degree to understand that first part!). I think being powerless is my greatest fear so it's not surprising that it would cause my sleeping brain to freak out like that. Dearest sub-brain, I realize that you're obviously nervous about my upcoming future but it'll be okay. Seriously. So, take a chill pill, relax, and let the poor human have some nice, uninterrupted sleep tonight! Otherwise I might go batsh@$t crazy at work and start throwing cakes at customers like I was a monkey at the zoo. Well, except they don't throw cake.

I'm getting sleeved April 25!! I'm both excited and terrified that I'll be the one person it totally fails. But that's just fear talking. I do feel ready and excited and I know that may say is right around the corner and time will fly by!

Things I plan to do after surgery: 1) Jet skiing in an actual bathing suit 2) Go to an amusement park and not fear being too fat for the rides 3) SHOPPING 4) Buy knee high boots (the ones without the 'expansion panel') 5) Restart taking martial arts and ballroom dancing. I miss them! 6) Get the tattoo I've been wanting for my 30th birthday- but have it also mean victory over being fat 7) White Water rafting and ziplining 8) Go on dates, Meet men. Have a real relationship. Have Sex. All. Night. Long. 9) Not be scared to flirt with someone because 'how could they be interested in someone like me' 10) Take a glass blowing class. Standing next to the furnace sucks when you come equipped with your own plushy, non-removable insulation! 11)...well, 11 is the hardest one. I've realized while going through this process some uncomfortable home truths about myself. That my attitude has kept me from really connecting with people who haven't known me for years. It was hard telling my friends why I wanted to do this. To open myself up to them in that way. It made me realize that I've used humor to keep my distance from people. To distract them from my weight and my insecurities. Don't get me wrong, I love making people laugh. I like the fact that I can make someone smile and perhaps brighten their day. I've been called quirky, funny, witty, and individual. I'm the one making the crazy puns, singing even though my voice is horrible, dancing just because I can and laughing at the world around me. I adore life and all its myriad craziness. I love causing people to rise above the humdrum of everyday life and to smile when I ask, "Have they done their five minutes of cardiovascular swashbuckling today?" or "What is their philosophical standpoint on foam in their latte?" Why be sad when you can smile? Except somehow the philosophy changed and morphed into something less wholesome. It became my defense and barrier because who looks deeper into someone who is laughing and smiling? Who notices the fat when someone is funny? One of my oldest friends put it best when he said, "You've always laughed, smiled, and dared the world...but there was always this undercurrent of sadness that you rarely let anybody touch." There was this feeling of sadness that I buried so deep inside of myself that I rarely acknowledged it. I wasn't (and am not) depressed or miserable, but sometimes I would feel wistful. Is this how my life would be, slowly slipping by? I had friends, but many of the things I wanted to do were denied to me. Where was the life of love, family, and adventure that I felt sure would be mine when I was in high school or even college? Would I have to let pieces of myself die as I slowly became resigned that this is all there was? Would I let my fear of failure rule over my entire life? One of my biggest fears was always that I would become one of those people whose spark has been beaten down by life. I do not want to become one of the faceless ones who have given up all hope. Life is so beautiful, and I dreaded becoming bitter because I felt trapped. Yet it is hard to open yourself up to the world. Even with our friends, because they have the power to hurt us the most. Our culture eats the weak and it is rare when personal pain is able to touch the hearts of others and bring help instead of humiliation; Understanding and hope, instead of sneering and cruelty. Even with my closest friends sometimes it's easier to make a quip instead of talking about emotions. I also think I learned early that if society would not value me for my looks (and would often be actively cruel about them) then I would be valued for my personality and my mind. That I would not be ignored as insignificant and shoved into a corner. That my brain was not somehow worthless because my body was not a size 6. I would not be ignored! And I'm not. I would not change my quirkiness, but I would like to be someone who can be more open to other people. I would like to know the woman who can be both funny and thoughtful. I would like to know what it feels like to not feel confined by a prison made of flesh. To not feel like I have to smile, smile smile. To actually believe, to the very depths of myself, that I am beautiful and worthy of a life of love and adventure. To be physically able to live that life. To actually know that life is not over, that it's just begun, and that there is an entire world waiting for me. The hope for a better future is a powerful thing. It's gonna be hard, but that's okay. I have a lot of work to do on the inside as well. I am thankful ever day that I heard of this surgery, that I qualify, and that I'm schedule to have it April 25. ~Lyra ps- Dear Site Designers: Once again I had to rewrite my entire post (I am seriously pissed at myself about that) because I clicked Add Entry (I tend to write the title of the post last and the button is right there) and my entire post was deleted. Hitting backpage did nada to retrieve my entry and I think my scream hit the stratosphere. Is there any way that ya'll can add in a line of code that allows you to retrieve your unpublished post (instead of just deleting it) if Add Entry is accidentally hit? Thanks!

HA! I have vanquished my evil foe, Ye Olde Insurance Company and it quivers under the might of my Sword of Righteousness! We have parleyed and it has given over approval for my surgery! Huzzah, I tell you! Huzzah and Woot! That's right, boys and girls, Lyra is going under the knife on April 25! Ladies and Gents, there will be a new Sheriff in town! My stomach, who will soon be called "The Sheriff" is gonna be a spur-and-chaps wearin', six shooter tottin', topped with a ten-gallon cowboy hat fighter of fat! Together we shall eradicate my engorged lipid cells to the far reaches of the planet, never to be seen or heard from again! And now, I am off to watch some Monty Python: The Search for the Holy Grail! Or perhaps a giant, mutant alligator going crazy and attacking townspeople movie! Thank you to all and to all a kick-ass night!

Hey guys! My surgery date is April 25 and I can't wait. If ya'll want to be surgery buddies, let me know!

I don't know why I'm freaking out right now. Maybe because it feels that for the past two months I've been living and breathing VSG surgery and right now I'm in the Insurance Limbo From Hell. Until I hear back from them there is nothing I can do. I really do not like not being in control of my fate. The longer the limbo stretches the crazier the ideas are that pop into my head. On top of work shenanigans (we're super busy) and relationship stress my mind is blowing everything out of proportion. I know that this is what's happening, but still. I've been so busy lately that I feel like I haven't had any time for a healthy outlet that's not work, VSG related, or sleeping! Obviously I have enough problems without having my imagination working overtime! Tonight I was talking to my mom and she said that my dad (who had VSG about 1.5 months ago) is now a terrible cook. He was cooking her dinner but she asked him to stop because it was (in some cases) inedible. Cooking has always been a big part of my family (and obviously a big part of the problem!) and my dad and I LOVE to cook. I adore combining different flavors and just feeding people. I get great enjoyment out of it. This is why I went to culinary school. I have a career based on my ability to bake! So now I'm freaking out that somehow after surgery I will lose my ability to cook/bake. That not only will a huge chunk of my stomach be cut out, but also my culinary ability. I mean, what happens if instead I gain the ability to make anything explode? Next thing you know I'm in the CIA and working in some cesspit and using vanilla extract to blow stuff up only to later be snuffed because I know too much. Okay, so that probably wont happen, but you get the point! It's so stupid to be so worked up over this and to invite trouble before I even have surgery!! Today at work somebody told me that "I'm the spoon that stirs the pot" and that work is so much more interesting and fun when I'm there and that I put other people in a good mood. It made me feel warm and fuzzy...but sad, too. At my last job people were thoughtless and backstabbing and didn't really like me so it really surprises me when people tell me how glad they are that I work with them. I think the correct word is 'baffled'. I worked in that toxic job for so long that I think I started to subconsciously believe that I wasn't a good person. I was stressed all the time and hated life. I've been so happy at my new job but I'm thinking that I need to do something soon to stretch my wings. Teaching would do that but dang, that's a scary thought! Intriguing, but scary! I think right now my emotions are going in every which way and I'm trying really hard for them not to impact upon my relationships. I just want this done and over so I can move on. I LIKE being cheerful and fun. I want to go rock climbing so badly I can taste it! I don't like feeling so discombobulated and out of sorts!! Sheesh, I thought my emotions would be on a roller coaster AFTER the surgery, not before!!

*laugh* I LOVE climbing and use to do it all the time along with martial arts but as I got bigger I didn't have the body strength to pull myself up the wall. Also, the harnesses were embarrassing. I can't wait to climb again! I already feel better (thanks, ya'll!), I don't know why last night everything seemed to hit me at once. I'm blaming it on my monthly visitor being almost two weeks early! Hormones can make a lady nuts!

Awesome post! Congratulations on breaking 300 and just think how it'll feel when you keep getting closer to 'Mount Doom'. (By the way, I love the comparison). Keep us posted and keep rockin' your inner nerd as I'm a firm believer that they make the best, and most interesting, posts! If nothing else, having a sense of humor about it all makes the journey more bearable!

I haven't written in a few days because I've been fighting off The Zombie Death Plague. Okay, I should probably back up and start from the beginning. Ten years ago I was bitten by a brown recluse spider and then got MRSA on top of that (it was a fun year) and about three years ago I started getting MRSA flare ups a few times a year. Cue horror movie music and once again I'm fighting off MRSA. Which, while problematic, can be taken care of with typical prescription drugs except that I'm allergic to eleven different drugs. Doctors always get this 'deer in headlights' look about them when they need to prescribe for me as it's somewhat of a crap-shoot if I'm going to get sick (or shuffle off my mortal coil) from a new drug. Or an old drug that my body can't really tolerate anymore. Nice, right? So I've given this some thought and I think MRSA is a government conspiracy (not really) that is really either an Alien Love Spore Infection (aka 'Body Snatchers') or The Zombie Death Plague (aka 'Resident Evil') that is trying to take over our world. Who knows, maybe tomorrow I'll wake up with an insatiable need for Braaaiiiiiins, the desire to moan piteously, and a serious case of personal decomposition. Well, right now I'm up early and forcing myself to eat a large breakfast because you can't take one of the only anti-MRSA (Zombie Death Plague) drugs on a lonely bagel or banana filled stomach. It's the equivalent of a nuclear bomb going off in your body and all sort of bacteria and whatnot die. Even the 'good' bacteria. Needless to say the next few days will be fun. Obviously it's been a busy few days and the entire thing started off after bug bites I got from hiking and picnicking became infected. I'm taking this as proof that trees are evil, and mother nature is out to get me. From now on the only wilderness I want to be experiencing is the shopping mall on a Saturday during a 50% off sale! So other than that debacle I've been dealing with insurance stuff. See, my insurance approval is waiting on my PCP to send proof that I've been heavy for the last few years. I've been waiting for two weeks. So basically I called up my PCP last night and we chatted and I said that I have a somewhat narrow window of opportunity in April to get this surgery and I need this paperwork now. He pinkie promised to get it done and sent in today or tomorrow, thank goodness. If he doesn't...well...my friends and family know that I have a....creative...sense of humor :ph34r: . And my PCP has known me for a long, long time. *wicked smile* So fighting off Zombieism, battling insurance companies, and decorating cakes. And who said that life was boring? PS- Seriously, if I hit the "Add Entry" button (which should read "If You Hit This Button All Your Work Will Be Erased You Need To Hit Publish Now You Idiot" ONE MORE TIME I might throw a tantrum worthy of a 'Toddlers and Tiaras' contestant!

When I was 19 I had a breast reduction to a B/C cup and loved how small they were. Now I'm a large D and I really, really, really, really hope that they'll go back to the B/C range (I prefer a size b, actually). I also hope that the 'lift' I got 10 years ago will somehow keep lifting as the weight comes off.....Eh, even if it doesn't I'll wear super sexy bras and they would have gotten saggy eventually anyway. I'm not worried about the 'ladies' but what I would like is to see if I have hips. I've always carried weight in my middle and it'll be nice to see if I actually have a waist...

I am Batman. Or rather, Batwoman. No, seriously, apparently I am some lady's hero today who called work all in a tizzy because her pie dough turned out wonky. Forgetting the salt does that. Perhaps one day I'll even look good in spandex and a cape. Besides my future as a caped crusader I like to think I'm a rather self-aware lady, and I mean self aware beyond the existential belief of both my physical and mental existence upon this plane of reality. Yeah, it's a work in progress but I've given a lot of time (oh, say about five minutes) to understanding my brain and why it prefers to think in shades of purple and glitter (there may also be polka dots) rather than in a more logical and linear manner. Well, I think we can toss "Lyra's Self Awareness Merit Badge" into the trash can. I swear, where does my brain get some of it's thoughts from? Obviously I didn't train it up right and it needs a choke collar and some correctional training. So, here's the sitch... I was at work today doing my very best to help raise the sugar level in America (I'm a cake decorator, or as I like to say, 'Cake Diva') when one of my coworkers who is a teacher on the side said that she recommended me to teach a class next semester. Now this is good in several ways the first being that teaching one class will help me figure out if this is what I would like to do full time, and the second being that I would make a lot more money teaching than what I'm currently doing. Also, I'm bored and feel the need to stretch my gossamer (and delicately ephemeral) wings in order to expand my repertoire within my profession. So, this is good and I'm confident enough that I think I would be good at the job. However, the first thing that popped into my head was, "Well, if I get the job and as it doesn't start until August, then I probably wont be fat then and so will kick butt." *Beats brain with a rubber duck* What the hell?! Since when is my brain trying to play for the rival team in putting me down? Mutiny! You would think that since my brain is trapped in it's current flesh-mobile that it would be a little bit more respectful of my..er...rubenesque physique. Also, my butt stomping boots work no matter what size I am. It just kinda made me sad that I had this automatic thought about my innate ability vs my size. We get enough of that from the public without having to put up with that inside my own head! Bad brain! No cookies for you! Okay, one other thing. Why do people, when they see someone like me eating a salad, ask "So, are you trying to lose weight?" I don't go over to skinny people who are eating burgers and say, "So, I see that you're working on that ol' beer gut. Good job!". Today I was eating my lunch (salad) and one of my coworkers asked me what dressing I was using. When I replied "olive oil and lemon juice" he commented that it is great for the middle of the body. *stink eye* Seriously? My middle is not up for public debate. In fact, my middle is under the Witness Protection Program and it's name has been changed so feel free to pretend that it doesn't exist. My reply to him was that, "I don't know what you mean" with my best Clint Eastwood stare. Cue uncomfortable silence and then his quick shuffle towards the door. Yeah, that's right, feel embarrassment and social discomfort brought about by your own clumsy inability to talk about the weather. *rolls eyes* Tomorrow we're going to the zoo and I'm all aflutter! I do enjoy seeing the penguins and it sounds like a blast!

Yeah, I'm loving Fyfer, my new phone, and am already addicted to him! However, I think my club membership t-shirt and secret decoder ring got lost in the mail....

Yesterday was a day that would have made a SAINT fall to the Dark Side and become an evil Sith Lord. He and Darth Vader would have been bffs, I'm sure. Work was hectic in that everybody needed their hands held and a customer argued over a shade of pink I used on their cakes. But, honestly, I kinda expect that at work so it doesn't really bother me anymore. No, what made the day 'of the suck' was when I reached into my pocket to pull out Wallie (named after Wall-E), my Pantech Pursuit side-open qwerty keyboard phone and his touchscreen wasn't working! Wallie was probably my favorite phone EVER but the only thing he could still do was allow me to type a number on the keyboard to call out. Which was heroic of him, but who knows anybody's number anymore? Seriously, when I call someone it goes like this, "Wallie, call (fill in the blank with a name)" and Wallie calls. I can't deal with not having a phone. Seriously. Also, texting is a fact of life. So instead of going home to change from my work clothes before going to get my hair done I tried (and failed) to find a AT&T store. *sigh* So off I go to my amazing salon where everybody always looks cute and hip. I already feel like a slob because I'm Lady Plumptious in the Land Of Skinny Cute Clothed People but wearing my work clothes (ucky T-shirt and jeans) I felt even worse. Luckily I had a pair of cute retro-shoes in my car and so was able to take off my just adorable (sarcasm) non-slip shoes. Yet even shoes do not make up for a sad, sad outfit. So, what does a Cool Chick like myself do, you ask? Well like any, er, 'big boned' lady I decided to fake it. Yep, I walked in all swagger and sass and thought to myself "Self, you are wearing awesome shoes. More awesome than THEIR shoes. See my delectable shoe-ware and know envy". Petty, yes, and I really do believe that people are more than their clothes and I really am a self-confident Goddess of Womanhood....but. Yeah, but. I kinda wanted to pretend to be a jedi and say "You see not my horrible work clothes, you see not my horrible work clothes. Oh, and you will give me a free mini highlight....". Ahh, to only have superpowers. Anyway, the haircut is super hot and off I toddle to find my nearest AT&T store only to find out that my 'insurance' plan that I pay for can't give me a Wallie 2. That they don't even MAKE his type of phone anymore (poor Wallie, and he wasn't even 2 years old yet!) and they say that they'll give me 'X' instead. Well, 'X' is a POS and I'm not paying $50 for it. So low and behold I find myself a lovely iPhone 3 and now have Fyfer (from Fifer of "Watership Down") who rocks hardcore! I have joined the Legion Of Those Who Own Smart Phones And In Particular iPhones". So when do I get my t-shirt and secret decoder ring? They did give me poor Wallie's body in a box so I'm debating on burying him outside under a beautiful, pollen spludging Dogwood Tree. Poor Wallie. Luckily my bffs called me to go out to eat that night (still in my ucky work clothes but NOW sporting professionally styled hair to go with my cute retro shoes) and we had chicken wings. Well, during the course of dinner I mentioned how I was watching a Dinosaur Documentary and that it said birds were the decedents of dinosaurs. So if that is true, and a chicken is a bird, does that mean that a T-Rex tastes like chicken? And that theoretically I just ate a T-Rex? Mmmm, T-Rex chicken is GOOD! So if you are what you eat, and I just ate a T-Rex does that mean I'm a meat-hungry Queen of Humanity? I mean, T-Rex was considered the king of dinosaurs....*grin* Although I think my nobility should at least demand several hot cabana boys waiving pond fronds and rubbing my poor, tired feet. You see, cool retro shoes look great but walking for hours in them hurts! Ah, what a day!

Yah know, I just want a pair of jeans, or even a cute pair of shorts paired with a silk screen tank top and some awesome arm bangles. It would be awesome to wear a tank top during the summer without being disgusted by my arms. Without having a spare tire or two around my middle.

Cute clothes are a definite "Lyra wants that!". I also love accessories and it would be awesome to be able to wear bracelets that can slip over your hand without feeling like you're putting yourself through an ancient torture device. I want to run a half-marathon by the end of the year and my bff said that she's coming with! (she rocks!) I am whistful about some of ya'lls husbands who are so supportive and don't care what you look like, because men like that are scarce where I live! I would love to have a guy ask me out again or to even have somebody flirt with me! Or stare at me and not because I'm big. To not only hear the "but you have a great personality". It would be nice to go to a bar with friends and not feel left out when guys come up to us to talk. I think if someone actually asked for my number I would be in shock! *grin*

I'm not sure about getting it pre-made although you might be able to go to a Moroccan grocery store and get it. It's really easy to make. I love the taste of veggies and this dish doesn't cover those flavors up, it's also really pretty with a bunch of different colors. I put chicken in mine with cous cous and bake some flatbread in the oven. If you want my recipe send me a buzz! I heard there is a recipe good for sleevers on this site...I'll have to check it out!

Ahhh, exercise! Those wacky movements that cause our muscles to ache and for a voice deep down to scream "Take that!" to the world at large who says that big people are just lazy. So I work in what is (not) affectionately known as "The Batcave" or "The Fortress of Solitude". Basically it's a very, very small windowless room next to a giant convection oven that is sweltering even in the depths of winter. So while I am far, far away from being nature girl (I hate bugs, being dirty, trees, and those bushes that always cling to your legs and are currently spludging pollen like it's an Olympic sport) a friend and I decided to picnic and hike at Umstead State Park. So off we hike (amble) on a nice 2 mile trail. Yet a good gossip later we found ourselves having taken a switchback and somehow jumped trails to the 7 MILE LONG ONE! Now this Plumptious Lady is good for about 3-4 mile up and down trail hiking but not for any more than that! So we continued walking and stumbled across this dude jogging. We asked him but he had no clue how to help us, which was okay because he was shirtless and hot and I enjoyed the eye candy. We then wandered across this couple who were dressed as "serious hikers" and while she tried to help us he was a total jerk and kept on walking. Also, I would like to take this time for an aside comment, "Hey, fella, karma's a b**ch and I hope you enjoyed your hike while knowing that two bodacious babes were more lost than Hansel and Gretel. May a good Samaritan be scarce when you need one". All we wanted to know was where an intersecting trail was to take us the fastest route back to the cars so my friend could get to work on time. So, basically when I decided that it was going to have to be cannibalism and my friend would have to take one for the team we found a superhero dressed in black workout spandex! (She also goes by 'Carmen' in her day-to-day life) This wonderful lady walked us to her car and gave us a lift back to our cars. Thanks, Superhero Carmen! My friend will never know how close she came to being lunch meat... Well, now I'm back home with my legs wrapped and elevated (stupid surgery scars) and my feet singin' the blues. Yet deep, deep inside is this skinny person standing on top of a rock (like in that credit card commercial) with her hands up Richard Nixon-style screaming, "Ha! I did it, I kicked hiking left butt cheek! Mwahaha! The world is my oyster and all I need is a lemon slice!" I couldn't have done this multi-mile hike a few months ago and it's nice to see that the jogging and weight lifting has paid off even pre-surgery! I think, however, that next time I want to experience some of the 'great outdoors' I'll just go walk around one of those open air malls. They have restaurants as I really don't think that my friends would taste good without either tabasco or A1. And who carries condiments on a day-hike....? *grin* (I had to re-type this from memory. Apparently the "Add Entry" button doesn't add the entry to your blog, but deletes what you have written and opens a new blank entry page. Awesome. Not.)

I'm still pre-surgery and most of my friends have been supportive. The only friend that I've seen glimmerings of problems with is also overweight and is losing through exercise and dieting. She kinda has this "holier than thou" attitude and said that if so many people lose weight with the surgery then why don't I just eat what they eat and I'll lose weight. I looked her straight in the eye and said, "I don't know K., can you YOU only eat 2 oz for a meal?" That's kinda shut her up for awhile but I see some problems coming down the pike. *shrug* I look at it that every friendship has an ebb and flow. Perhaps we'll stay friends, perhaps we wont. Maybe we'll just 'do lunch' and only talk about surface stuff and perhaps we'll be BFFs. Or perhaps we'll come back to being friends in a year or two. Life changes too much to be worried about something like that.

Moi! I'm hoping to run a half marathon by then too! I'm (crosses fingers) hopefully getting sleeved next month but I already can run a 5K distance (albeit rather slowly. I'm part of a running group called The Turtles!). As for tips the best one I've found so far is to go get fitted for real running shoes by people who know what they're doing. Apparently my feet pronate slightly and these shoes made my ankles, knees and hips feel so much better!

I'm still pre-surgery but my current favorite foods are peanut butter anything and a Moroccan tagini that is deliciously awesome!

Mine went for approval on the 12th so hopefully I'll here something tomorrow. If not I'm going to call to see what's up. Good luck!

Yeah, my surgeon told me that a lot of doctors don't look kindly on having to treat someone who didn't go to them for primary treatment. Basically it's a "we weren't good enough in the first place and now you want us to help you" sort of deal. It it was something like a leak, you would probably have to go to the emergency room because then a doctor is forced to see you. Also, I don't think your insurance would be obligated to pay for any problems related to the surgery since they didn't cover it in the first place and you went out of the country for it. I'm not sure about the last part, though.

So I had a thought today about WLS when I was at work. I realized that while I am excited about new clothes, better health, and a more active life there is one thing that would be almost (TMI) orgasmically good. It would be fantastic to come home from work and NOT have my feet, ankles, knees and legs positively ache and swell up. I work on my feet for 8 hours every day as a cake decorator. Sometimes after sitting and then getting back up my feet are so swollen they look like little Italian sausages (the Hot and Spicy kind, of course!) and I hobble around like a 100 year old woman! I actually daydreamed today (while cloud watching! I saw a crab, and Spiro the dragon!) about how having 120 less pounds bearing down on my poor footsies will feel! How maybe my hips and shoulders wont hurt. About how I will be able to enjoy my body, rather than be exhausted by it. Still no word about the insurance, but I've got a ton of extracurricular activity for the next five days to help take my mind off of everything.

When I went to my last pre-insurance-approval class (is- Support group) I was told to wait until Tuesday and then call to see if the doctors had all gotten my paperwork to Dr. W. So, dutifully I call and was told that everything was kosher and that it had gone to the insurance lady, Mary, last Friday. So...sitting here, cruising the 'web, eating some pasta, watching about dinosaurs and just chilling. NOT. Okay, so the first few things were true, but I am not calm and collected! I'm about to have absolutely NO nails left. I am, in fact, biting my nails so badly that it looks like I have a nervous tick and the nice men in the white jackets are gonna take me to a padded room. Also, as a side note, I was totally expecting something different from the Support group. I had this weird image that we would all be sitting in a circle on rainbow poofy chairs talking about our feelings, our emotional eating problems, and our mothers. Something very touchy-feely. Not that there is anything wrong with touchy-feelyness, per say, but I would rather remove my own stomach with a dull, plastic spork then talk about such things in front of strangers. Well the rainbow poofy chairs were long tables, metal folding chairs, and a whiteboard. And the only touchy feeling talk going on was about vitamins, minerals and how best not to starve ourselves of vital nutrients. So, I have all these questions whirling through my head. What if the insurance blip I had to take care of a few weeks ago didn't go all the way through the bureaucratic nine levels of hell to be attached to my file? What if the doctor's office didn't properly file my new insurance information in my folder? What if BCBS's computers suddenly become sentient and we all start living some variation of "The Terminator"? Somehow I don't think Dr W would do surgery in some broken down building while hoping to escape from a rabid AI. Okay, so maybe that last one is a touch out there... I know that after the surgery I will be getting rid of clothes like crazy. I thought I was ready to get rid of my favorite shirt that I have had for years. I had even made plans to get said shirt in smaller incarnations. Whenever I wore this shirt I got sooo many compliments and it was the supreme of cool. Yet my Led Zepplin shirt was taken from me before it's time. Not because I have lost so much weight that it was now a tent and merrily off I went to buy another. No. It was insidiously taken from me by my dryer. I pulled it out and somehow small holes had ripped through the shirt. It had gone straight from "I can wear this out in public" through "I can wear this to the gym" to "only in my house. Alone. With the blinds closed." *sigh* Poor Led Zepplin shirt.