I've made the decision to get banded.
I'm getting banded.
In 22 days.
Am I sure about this?
Ok, calm down. Yes, I am sure. Eventually I'll start from the beginning, but let me just babble a bit about my consult today.
After getting the kids, DH, and myself out the door by 7:15 am, which is no small feat, we headed out for the drive up to Detroit. Within an hour, we'd found the hospital, the right floor, and even the right suite. Or as DH would call it - the Fatty Clinic. Really, it's kinda the Becoming-a-Non-Fatty Clinic, right?
I was expecting to walk in and see a bunch of Fatties, or band-needing people, like myself. Instead I was met with a wide variety of people, most of whom did not appear to be getting nor have had a band. Turns out the suite has 25 or so other surgeons, so whew! We'd made it to the right spot. Unfortunately, the right spot stunk like hell and was quite grimy. DH asked me several times if there were any other surgeons I could go to. Um, yeah, for twice the cost. I put on my brave face, but I was starting to question what the hell I was thinking.
Fortunately, the exam rooms were MUCH nicer. And less smelly. However, they had one of the SMALLEST chairs I've ever seen. Really? In a room for patients wanting weight loss surgery? She asked me if I was in any pain, and I almost had to answer YES - the chair was squeezing my hips so badly!
Anyhow, after being weighed away from DH's watchful eye, we met with Angela, one of the program coordinators. She reviewed my health history briefly and then Dr. Webber, my surgeon, came in. He reviewed my health history more thoroughly, explained how the surgery is done, and answered my questions. I really didn't have many, since I've been researching the hell out of this the past month.
And we scheduled my surgery for Wednesday, November 25. 22 days. The day before Thanksgiving. I'll actually be released on Thanksgiving. Guess I'll be especially thankful this year!
The pre-op diet starts in 8 days. I am DREADING that part. But I will do it. And do it with minimal complaining. OK, probably with lots of complaining. I already warned DH I am going to be a raving bitch, and he's just going to have to deal with it.
OK, more later!