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Feeling a little sad today because a few weeks ago I had a call from the surgeon's office and they had a last minute opening on November 20 because of a cancellation. I am not scheduled until December 27, which is way later than I had expected when I started all this. My "ideal" date in my head had been November 13. I was so ready to jump at the chance, but I just couldn't make it work. As soon as I mentioned it to my mom, instead of being supportive, she had all sorts of reasons why I shouldn't move the date. Some were valid, like my teen daughter has a special (but not super special) thing going on later in the week that I would probably have to miss, and others were less valid, like she didn't feel ready and it might ruin everyone's holidays. Um, excuse me? It's not about her! And how would I single handedly ruin both Thanksgiving AND Christmas for my entire family by having a surgery? But she had informed me when I first got the December date that she planned on getting a hotel near the hospital and staying that night to be nearby, despite the hospital only being about 40 miles away from home. I didn't ask her to do that, but that's her plan, so there you go. She didn't ask me if I felt ready now, or what the wait through the holidays felt like for me with the surgery looming. So that was the part that hurt. I felt like I was having to make sure everyone else was okay with my choices instead of me, which is a theme in my life for sure. Don't get me wrong, my parents have been there for me so many times, and I don't want to sound ungrateful. But this really made me sad that what I wanted simply didn't factor in. Basically, I passed on what felt like a dream come true to get that call, and I've had to reconcile myself to it as best I can. I've found some silver linings, like more time to clean my house and test some recipes. But if I hadn't, I would be on my pre-op diet now (my surgeon only does a short liquid diet beforehand, so a Monday surgery starts the pre-op diet on Saturday morning). Instead, I'm getting ready to make dinner for myself and the kids, and I still have 39 days to go...
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I can relate to the parent's situation. I am 42 and still struggle with pleasing them. Yet they do whatever they want with no concern for how it affects anyone else, so why do I feel so obligated to them? I wish I had some advice that could help. One thing I have tried to do is stop sharing things with them that I really don't want to hear their opinion on. (like the business I am starting)
Like with this surgery, I knew I was going to need their help getting to the appointments and back from the surgery, so I knew I had to tell them. But I did not tell them until I was almost at the point of getting surgery that I was doing this.
I got hard judgment from my father, which I expected, I made him promise not to share this with his brothers (who are assholes) I told him whether he likes it or not I am an adult and I deserve respect and privacy especially when it concerns my health. (he begrudgingly agreed)
My mom on the other hand was supportive, but she has the tendency to add some dramatic flair about everything. her typical M.O. is to pop onto social media and rattle on about how something that is not happening directly to her, is affecting her ( I get it there no talking to the man she married about this stuff, so it's nice to have someone to listen).
I know they both struggled with trying to respect my wishes, they looked shocked when I told them that if I lived somewhere else, I would not have even told them I was having this surgery.
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I'm glad your father did agree to respect your privacy by not sharing with your family. And I guess I should be glad my mom keeps the dramatic flair off of the socials!
I'm both lucky and unlucky that my brother had VGS 15 years ago. On the one hand, my mom understands the concept and has seen my brother's good results from it, (we inherited the obesity from my father's side, and Mom has never dealt with more than those pesky 10 lbs average weight people always want to lose). On the other hand, my brother took exactly the opposite approach from me. He didn't live near family and told no one, had no support. He went to Mexico as self-pay and didn't say a word until about 4 weeks after when he was having some serious emotional struggles, living alone, and compounded by the fear of realizing that to get family support, he had to "confess." So his recovery was very different than what I anticipate for me. But because of all that, my mom definitely sees this as a "REALLY BIG DEAL." Which it is, but not the level she's at with it. Like, it's not an open heart surgery being performed in 1982, or experimental cancer treatment. I've also noticed that as my mom ages, she takes change a lot harder. She doesn't have the mental flexibility anymore to make an instant change of plans and roll with it, whereas I do that probably a dozen times a day.
I'm grateful for their help, but it comes at a price.
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