It was a long ass day. Because I had to take my daughter for her first set of dental sealants, I decided to make my Bariatric appointment on the same day so that I could kill two birds with one substitute. When I woke up I discovered my raging case of pinkeye from last week developed into a horrible sinus infection (or vice versa) and had to squeeze that one in today too. It was a day spent in waiting room hell.
At my Bariatric appointment I asked for another fill. They were impressed that I lost 8 lbs. in the six weeks since I had been there, but I assured them that was because I have been DIETING and that I could still eat way too much if I wanted to. In fact, for lunch I ate a whole slice of cheese pizza at the mall food court and then a few bites of my daughters chicken tenders with no ill effects. I allowed myself to do this of course because I knew I was going in for a fill anyways and would be on liquid the rest of the day. They agreed to the fill and I got shot with ½ cc (or ½ ml). Even though that doesn’t sound like a lot, the surgeon said even that little amount can really feel different and some patients who are too full have had a hard time swallowing their spit even after such a small fill. I passed the Dixie cup test after so I am good to go, liquids the rest of the day, mushies the next, chopped diet to follow.
When he asked if I had any questions, I had one important one. How and when do I get my tummy tuck?? He just laughed and said about 9/10 patients that want cosmetic or reconstructive surgery do have to pay out of pocket and if I am interested in that surgery A. I need to be about two years out from my lap-band procedure, and B. I can start a flex spending account with my husband’s medical benefits VISA. I was content with that answer. I mean, I am in no means as pouchy as some weight-loss surgery patients, mostly because of my low starting BMI because I took care of my problem early, but let’s just say I won’t be wearing a non-skirted bathing suit bottom any time soon. Two years puts me at Spring Break 2015, and in fact I already have two big beachy/bathing suit events planned for that summer so we shall see!
I then went to my internal medicine doctor to get a damn z-pack so I can start breathing again. It is crazy to me that each time I go in for a prescription and tell them point blank that I have a gastric band and that I need a Rx that I can smash, they look at me like I’m crazy. This one even went as far as to make a yuck face and tell me that smashing my pills must taste terrible. Yes it does, but I don’t have a choice unless I want to clog my fucking esophagus with antibiotics. I wish those goddamned computers they have now would have a flashing message when they log me in that says..PATIENT IS BANDED WHICH MEANS SHE HAS A NUSE AROUND HER STOMACH. The only thing worse than having to be on liquids the night after a fill is to have to smash pills into a sugar free pudding for dinner and want to gag on that bitter shit. But I did it, because that’s exactly what I signed up for.