How the Blog Got Her Name
I started thinking recently that some people might find the name of my blog a little self-indulgent, or even pompous. So I wanted to break it down and give a little insight into why I chose the name I chose. After all, everything has a reason.
"Shrinking" obviously refers to the weight loss part of the journey, the biggest single impetus I had for starting the blog in the first place. My size and shape, and my feelings about my size and shape, have been a huge force in my life for about as long as I can remember. In writing about those issues here, as well as chronicling my shrinkage in writing, I hope to put some of my demons to rest and maybe even help some other woman somewhere to feel better about her own body.
"Diva" is a nickname I have had for-pretty-much-ever. The Italian definition for the word is "goddess", which I know I am definitely NOT. The American slang meaning for Diva is more a reference to a performer, particularly in the opera world, who can be challenging to work with but has undeniable chops. I strive to be easy to work with, at least in the musical arena of my life, but I also strive to maintain the musical chops and voice that God gave me.
"Incredible" is the part I thought might give some people pause. It's not that I am incredible, because I'm not. And while losing weight may feel incredible to me, it's really not all that miraculous for everyone. The incredible part is the wonderful things God is allowing me to learn and to experience, in part through the weight loss journey and in part through the rest of my life. There is a lot more to my life and my world than just weight-loss surgery. The unit of Clinical Pastoral Education I took part in this past winter and spring did way more to change me than losing weight will do. God allowed me to take part in some incredible things in that 6 months, wonderful, tragic, humbling, heartbreaking experiences that have left me changed.
My first night on call at the hospital I got to baptize a beautiful, healthy 3-day-old baby boy. This was unusual for a few reasons. First of all, I was called to the mother and baby's room in the wee hours of the morning. Secondly, I went there straight from a trauma downstairs. Thirdly, when a chaplain is called to baptize an infant, it is usually because the infant has either died or is expected to die shortly. My opportunity to baptize a healthy baby who was about to go home the next day with his mother was nothing short of...incredible!
As I continue to write these blog entries, I will write about the Shrinking Diva parts of my life, but I also hope to share more of the Incredible as well. I'm not incredible. What God is doing in my life is. And THAT is worth sharing.
Monday, June 18, 2012
Friday, June 15, 2012
Gravity Is Not My Friend...
...why what goes up needs to STAY there
Recovery from surgery has been going really well, knock wood and Lord willing. Some soreness, some back pain, little annoyances all, but I am doing great for just a week and 2 days out from surgery. However, in the spirit of full disclosure I must say that in addition to dealing not only with the issues specific to recovering from weight-loss surgery and surgery in general, I spotted a new-old nemesis yesterday.
The big, black, bristly Chin Whisker. A relative of The Humility Pimple referred to in a previous post.
This hair used to live happily among my eyebrows, framing my face and giving added expression and zest to my communications, verbal and otherwise. My eyebrows used to be lush, thick and jet black. I actually had the nerve to complain about having too much eyebrow hair. I am learning now that it is much easier, regarding eyebrows, to have too much to work with.
I used to hear middle-aged women in my family talk about how "things fall down" as we get older. Chests drop and droop, fannies sink, and cheeks become jowly. I always knew these changes were awaiting me as I approached a "certain age". They never told me that gravity would apply to my hair as well! Such an indignity! The lush, black hair that used to adorn the top of my head and those abundant eyebrows of mine has started appearing on my upper lip and chin. This is not the nicest kind of surprise for a woman to discover.
Is there a kind of hair transplant for eyebrows that could restore mine to their former glory? I know there are removal methods for the facial hair that we don't want, and I've experimented with some of those. It seems sad to remove hair from one place when I need it in another...like I am wasting hair somehow.
We live in a culture that embraces a very narrow standard of beauty, both in the literal narrowness of a woman's waist and hips, and the broader narrowness, if you will, of the images were are subjected to/ bombarded with, depicting the feminine American ideal. That ideal does not include mustaches and beards on female faces. If I lived someplace else, someplace more forgiving, maybe the Chin Whisker would not bother me as much as it does. But I live in the good old US of A, the breadbasket of the world (just don't eat too much of that bread), the place where the slightest imperfection is noticed and scrutinized. So Mr. Whisker gets tweezed, while the eyebrows get filled in with a little extra color. That deals with the perverse irony of thinning and misplaced hair. I will save the rant about grey for another post!
We are now giddy with anticipation, aren't we?!
Recovery from surgery has been going really well, knock wood and Lord willing. Some soreness, some back pain, little annoyances all, but I am doing great for just a week and 2 days out from surgery. However, in the spirit of full disclosure I must say that in addition to dealing not only with the issues specific to recovering from weight-loss surgery and surgery in general, I spotted a new-old nemesis yesterday.
The big, black, bristly Chin Whisker. A relative of The Humility Pimple referred to in a previous post.
This hair used to live happily among my eyebrows, framing my face and giving added expression and zest to my communications, verbal and otherwise. My eyebrows used to be lush, thick and jet black. I actually had the nerve to complain about having too much eyebrow hair. I am learning now that it is much easier, regarding eyebrows, to have too much to work with.
I used to hear middle-aged women in my family talk about how "things fall down" as we get older. Chests drop and droop, fannies sink, and cheeks become jowly. I always knew these changes were awaiting me as I approached a "certain age". They never told me that gravity would apply to my hair as well! Such an indignity! The lush, black hair that used to adorn the top of my head and those abundant eyebrows of mine has started appearing on my upper lip and chin. This is not the nicest kind of surprise for a woman to discover.
Is there a kind of hair transplant for eyebrows that could restore mine to their former glory? I know there are removal methods for the facial hair that we don't want, and I've experimented with some of those. It seems sad to remove hair from one place when I need it in another...like I am wasting hair somehow.
We live in a culture that embraces a very narrow standard of beauty, both in the literal narrowness of a woman's waist and hips, and the broader narrowness, if you will, of the images were are subjected to/ bombarded with, depicting the feminine American ideal. That ideal does not include mustaches and beards on female faces. If I lived someplace else, someplace more forgiving, maybe the Chin Whisker would not bother me as much as it does. But I live in the good old US of A, the breadbasket of the world (just don't eat too much of that bread), the place where the slightest imperfection is noticed and scrutinized. So Mr. Whisker gets tweezed, while the eyebrows get filled in with a little extra color. That deals with the perverse irony of thinning and misplaced hair. I will save the rant about grey for another post!
We are now giddy with anticipation, aren't we?!
Monday, June 11, 2012
More P's For Your Consideration...
Pain, Posture, Perspiration, Purging and Poop
Yes, the Diva has had her first post-op bowel movement! It feels like a monumental occasion for which one might hire a string quartet, or at least a bluegrass band. In all seriousness, after any surgery, it is very important to make sure that the bowel is not sluggish once the anesthesia begins working its way out of the patient's system, because a sluggish bowel (or ileus) can cause a host of other complications. At the hospital everyone was just asking if I had "passed gas" yet, because there was not enough in my intestinal tract to make anything more than air. Since my bowel sounds were good, they agreed to release me. That was Friday, and it has taken until today, Monday, for the "monumental movement" to occur. (And it wasn't really all that monumental...it just felt that way.) Mama would be so proud! She was an extremely regular pooper.
I've been dealing with some pain from various sources since surgery, and that is also to be expected. Back pain has been a stubborn issue because I've been unable to lie on my side when I sleep or rest, which is a major drag since I am a side sleeper. So my back has been taking all the pressure, all the time. The Hubs helped me get a shower last night, and as tiring as it was, having him clean my back with my favorite scented scrub felt fantastic! And even though it tired me out, it made me feel a lot better over all, and I think the warm water did a lot to loosen my sore muscles. Later last night, an ice pack felt really good jammed up against my sore back. I may do that again tonight if I need it. Today I have napped and used a pillow to support myself on my sides and that has been really helpful. I hope that this posture boost will allow me to get a decent night of sleep.
I have also noticed that my body temp seems to fluctuate pretty widely as I sleep because I am waking up sweating fairly often. This may be due to a combination of factors: purging the many IV bags of hospital chemicals from my system; the surge of hormones that we are told will occur once we have undergone the weight-loss operation; just my own age and tendency toward night sweats anyway. I am 48 and I have been suffering night sweats on and off since I was 30.
My dreams since coming home have been unusually vivid, even for me, and their wildness may bring something to bear upon the sweating as well. That, I figure, has GOT to be related to getting the chemicals out of my system, and as such, I hope it settles down a little over time. Right now I just feel like a sore, sweaty, pajama-clad mess...but that will also pass. Considering all that's been done to my body in the past week, I think I am getting along pretty well, Lord willing and knock wood!
Yes, the Diva has had her first post-op bowel movement! It feels like a monumental occasion for which one might hire a string quartet, or at least a bluegrass band. In all seriousness, after any surgery, it is very important to make sure that the bowel is not sluggish once the anesthesia begins working its way out of the patient's system, because a sluggish bowel (or ileus) can cause a host of other complications. At the hospital everyone was just asking if I had "passed gas" yet, because there was not enough in my intestinal tract to make anything more than air. Since my bowel sounds were good, they agreed to release me. That was Friday, and it has taken until today, Monday, for the "monumental movement" to occur. (And it wasn't really all that monumental...it just felt that way.) Mama would be so proud! She was an extremely regular pooper.
I've been dealing with some pain from various sources since surgery, and that is also to be expected. Back pain has been a stubborn issue because I've been unable to lie on my side when I sleep or rest, which is a major drag since I am a side sleeper. So my back has been taking all the pressure, all the time. The Hubs helped me get a shower last night, and as tiring as it was, having him clean my back with my favorite scented scrub felt fantastic! And even though it tired me out, it made me feel a lot better over all, and I think the warm water did a lot to loosen my sore muscles. Later last night, an ice pack felt really good jammed up against my sore back. I may do that again tonight if I need it. Today I have napped and used a pillow to support myself on my sides and that has been really helpful. I hope that this posture boost will allow me to get a decent night of sleep.
I have also noticed that my body temp seems to fluctuate pretty widely as I sleep because I am waking up sweating fairly often. This may be due to a combination of factors: purging the many IV bags of hospital chemicals from my system; the surge of hormones that we are told will occur once we have undergone the weight-loss operation; just my own age and tendency toward night sweats anyway. I am 48 and I have been suffering night sweats on and off since I was 30.
My dreams since coming home have been unusually vivid, even for me, and their wildness may bring something to bear upon the sweating as well. That, I figure, has GOT to be related to getting the chemicals out of my system, and as such, I hope it settles down a little over time. Right now I just feel like a sore, sweaty, pajama-clad mess...but that will also pass. Considering all that's been done to my body in the past week, I think I am getting along pretty well, Lord willing and knock wood!
Sunday, June 10, 2012
Be It Ever So Humble...
There really is no place like home
Came home from the hospital Friday afternoon, after a 2 and 1/2 day stay. I will not lie about how I feel. I am sore, my neck especially has been bothering me. And I have a painful place on my lower right side that has made me unable to lie on my side for sleep or rest, so my back is bothering me because it is really tired and sore from being the only spot to lie or lean on. But it has been great to sleep in my own bed again and it's very liberating to be able to go to the bathroom without an IV pole in tow!
Now for some surgery nitty-gritty. I had undergone abdominal surgery twice before. The first time was in 1977, shortly before my 13th birthday. My symptoms made the surgeon think my appendix was the trouble. It turned out that I had an ovarian cyst that had ruptured and, since it was on the right side, the appendix was the natural assumption. And he did remove the appendix since he was in the neighborhood. The second operation was in January of 1995 when my gallbladder (and 15 marble-size stones!) were removed. As a result of these previous surgical adventures, my surgery on Wednesday took longer because my doctor had some significant adhesions (scar tissue) to deal with before he could get to the actual business of my weight-loss procedure.
In addition to these considerations, weight-loss surgeries generally come with the installation of a drain. Of course, I was still under anesthesia when the drain was installed so it was nothing for me to be concerned about. The removal of the drain was something else entirely. I won't lie and say that it was a breeze. It was unpleasant. Had I known just how uncomfortable it would be, I might have asked for conscious sedation for that couple of minutes! Seriously. The good news is that it doesn't take very long for the removal. Still, some twilight sleep or nitrous oxide or something mind-altering would have been nice.
I had lots of nice visits while I was in the hospital,as well as tons of phone calls and text messages checking up on me, which made me feel very much loved and cared for. Flowers and balloons and a goody bag with journal, prayer box and cool pen (shaped and painted to look like a brunette Diva!) are on my coffee table here at home, and their fragrance and color remind me what wonderful friends and family I have been blessed with.
The Hubs has been the most excellent caregiver I could ever have asked for. He has been concerned, patient, loving and supportive throughout this whole thing. Not just the hospital and recovery, but the months beforehand during medically-supervised weight loss and CPE. So even though I feel kind of crappy right now, I realize how very much I have to be thankful for. The crappy part is all stuff that (I hope!) is going to pass soon. The blessed part is what will last.
Came home from the hospital Friday afternoon, after a 2 and 1/2 day stay. I will not lie about how I feel. I am sore, my neck especially has been bothering me. And I have a painful place on my lower right side that has made me unable to lie on my side for sleep or rest, so my back is bothering me because it is really tired and sore from being the only spot to lie or lean on. But it has been great to sleep in my own bed again and it's very liberating to be able to go to the bathroom without an IV pole in tow!
Now for some surgery nitty-gritty. I had undergone abdominal surgery twice before. The first time was in 1977, shortly before my 13th birthday. My symptoms made the surgeon think my appendix was the trouble. It turned out that I had an ovarian cyst that had ruptured and, since it was on the right side, the appendix was the natural assumption. And he did remove the appendix since he was in the neighborhood. The second operation was in January of 1995 when my gallbladder (and 15 marble-size stones!) were removed. As a result of these previous surgical adventures, my surgery on Wednesday took longer because my doctor had some significant adhesions (scar tissue) to deal with before he could get to the actual business of my weight-loss procedure.
In addition to these considerations, weight-loss surgeries generally come with the installation of a drain. Of course, I was still under anesthesia when the drain was installed so it was nothing for me to be concerned about. The removal of the drain was something else entirely. I won't lie and say that it was a breeze. It was unpleasant. Had I known just how uncomfortable it would be, I might have asked for conscious sedation for that couple of minutes! Seriously. The good news is that it doesn't take very long for the removal. Still, some twilight sleep or nitrous oxide or something mind-altering would have been nice.
I had lots of nice visits while I was in the hospital,as well as tons of phone calls and text messages checking up on me, which made me feel very much loved and cared for. Flowers and balloons and a goody bag with journal, prayer box and cool pen (shaped and painted to look like a brunette Diva!) are on my coffee table here at home, and their fragrance and color remind me what wonderful friends and family I have been blessed with.
The Hubs has been the most excellent caregiver I could ever have asked for. He has been concerned, patient, loving and supportive throughout this whole thing. Not just the hospital and recovery, but the months beforehand during medically-supervised weight loss and CPE. So even though I feel kind of crappy right now, I realize how very much I have to be thankful for. The crappy part is all stuff that (I hope!) is going to pass soon. The blessed part is what will last.
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
The P's of Life...
...Preparation, Pain, Pee, Puke and Provision
This time tomorrow my surgery will be over! Glory, Glory Hallelujah! Can I get an "Amen"?!
Surgery day is upon us! After midnight tonight I am to have nothing by mouth to prepare for tomorrow's festivities in hopes of, among other things, not experiencing nausea or vomiting as I wake up from anesthesia. I've had that happen and it is MOST unpleasant.
I've been put to sleep 4 times, and I vomited twice coming out of it. The first incident was after my gallbladder was removed. Imagine, if you will, coming out of a hazy state with 4 newly-poked holes in your belly, lying flat on your back and puking like a champ. I don't recommend it.
The second time I yakked after surgery was with my wisdom teeth, and I yakked with such gusto, that I also peed my pants. (Yes, it is OK to laugh, because it is funny. I think it may have the makings of a sitcom episode someday.) And I did not take any pain medication with me to the appointment because I knew they were going to send me straight to the pharmacy for medicine immediately after surgery. And they did. However, it snowed that day, and even though the roads were not dangerous, there was extreme gridlock. So what should have been a 45 minute drive from the oral surgeon's office to the pharmacy turned into about 4 hours of creeping, crawling agony. Imagine again, if you will, the anesthetic (from having 4 impacted wisdom teeth jackhammered out of your face) gone before you even leave the office, and when you emerge from the office to the parking lot, all there is, is snow and crawling traffic as far as the eye can see. And because you've peed your pants, you ride home not only in excruciating pain but also with a cold, wet tushy. Talk about adding insult to injury! Fortunately a nurse gave us a trash bag for me to sit on so I wouldn't soak the car seat. I thought that trip would never end. The Hubs, I am sure, felt the same way. We can laugh about it now...sort of.
And this, boys and girls, is why I never leave home now without hydrocodone in my possession or on my person. NEVER. Accidents happen. Falls happen. Pain happens, and never when it is convenient. So now, I am of the "It's better to have it and not need it than need it and not have it" school.
Because I won't be able to take large pills for a while after surgery, this time I have been prescribed a liquid hydrocodone to use for pain. The nurse says it takes effect more quickly and lasts longer than the pill form. I hope not to need much of it while I recover, but I ain't gonna white-knuckle really awful post-op pain. I will take medicine if I need to. I know from working with hospice patients that it is easier to control pain before it gets too severe than it is to relieve it once it has reached the "oh-dear-Lord-I'm-in-the-worst-pain-of-my-life" stage.
I expect to feel really crappy for a few days. But when I think about all I've been through preparing for this step of the journey, I am amazed at how God has provided what I have needed, when I have needed it. He got me through the withdrawal from caffeine and carbonated drinks, which was not a fun process. He enabled me to do my overnight sleep test the night before my CPE interview and to be accepted into the unit. He got me through the barium swallow test without more puking!
He has given encouragement from family and friends for not only my weight-loss surgery but my writing as they have read both the blog posts and some of my writings for CPE. And He will provide what I need going forward. Maybe not exactly how I might expect, but He will take care of me. He always has.
This time tomorrow my surgery will be over! Glory, Glory Hallelujah! Can I get an "Amen"?!
Surgery day is upon us! After midnight tonight I am to have nothing by mouth to prepare for tomorrow's festivities in hopes of, among other things, not experiencing nausea or vomiting as I wake up from anesthesia. I've had that happen and it is MOST unpleasant.
I've been put to sleep 4 times, and I vomited twice coming out of it. The first incident was after my gallbladder was removed. Imagine, if you will, coming out of a hazy state with 4 newly-poked holes in your belly, lying flat on your back and puking like a champ. I don't recommend it.
The second time I yakked after surgery was with my wisdom teeth, and I yakked with such gusto, that I also peed my pants. (Yes, it is OK to laugh, because it is funny. I think it may have the makings of a sitcom episode someday.) And I did not take any pain medication with me to the appointment because I knew they were going to send me straight to the pharmacy for medicine immediately after surgery. And they did. However, it snowed that day, and even though the roads were not dangerous, there was extreme gridlock. So what should have been a 45 minute drive from the oral surgeon's office to the pharmacy turned into about 4 hours of creeping, crawling agony. Imagine again, if you will, the anesthetic (from having 4 impacted wisdom teeth jackhammered out of your face) gone before you even leave the office, and when you emerge from the office to the parking lot, all there is, is snow and crawling traffic as far as the eye can see. And because you've peed your pants, you ride home not only in excruciating pain but also with a cold, wet tushy. Talk about adding insult to injury! Fortunately a nurse gave us a trash bag for me to sit on so I wouldn't soak the car seat. I thought that trip would never end. The Hubs, I am sure, felt the same way. We can laugh about it now...sort of.
And this, boys and girls, is why I never leave home now without hydrocodone in my possession or on my person. NEVER. Accidents happen. Falls happen. Pain happens, and never when it is convenient. So now, I am of the "It's better to have it and not need it than need it and not have it" school.
Because I won't be able to take large pills for a while after surgery, this time I have been prescribed a liquid hydrocodone to use for pain. The nurse says it takes effect more quickly and lasts longer than the pill form. I hope not to need much of it while I recover, but I ain't gonna white-knuckle really awful post-op pain. I will take medicine if I need to. I know from working with hospice patients that it is easier to control pain before it gets too severe than it is to relieve it once it has reached the "oh-dear-Lord-I'm-in-the-worst-pain-of-my-life" stage.
I expect to feel really crappy for a few days. But when I think about all I've been through preparing for this step of the journey, I am amazed at how God has provided what I have needed, when I have needed it. He got me through the withdrawal from caffeine and carbonated drinks, which was not a fun process. He enabled me to do my overnight sleep test the night before my CPE interview and to be accepted into the unit. He got me through the barium swallow test without more puking!
He has given encouragement from family and friends for not only my weight-loss surgery but my writing as they have read both the blog posts and some of my writings for CPE. And He will provide what I need going forward. Maybe not exactly how I might expect, but He will take care of me. He always has.
Saturday, June 2, 2012
Me and my STD...
...that's Short Term Disability (you perverts)!
Very few times in my life have I ever had to deal with things that made me feel like an actual grown-up. (Obviously there were times during Mama's illness when I felt like an adult, although after she died I felt more like a child, and an orphaned one at that.) The experience of being rear-ended and my car being totaled gave me a crash course in adulthood. When I had my gallbladder removed at age 30, then broke my leg and both sides of my ankle a couple of years later, there were things to take care of that made me feel like an adult. And now the surgery coming up in 4 days has reopened those feelings.
It was not the wreck or the surgeries that stressed me out. It was dealing with my insurance company! And for this short-term leave, it seems like there are a lot more details, and many more possible ways for me to get shortchanged. Payroll for my job was taken over by an out-of-house payroll processing company several years ago, so we no longer have an on-site payroll person to go to if there are errors with our paychecks. For a brief period my company had also decided that a benefits coordinator on-site was unnecessary, which resulted in a LOT of problems with employee leaves and pay. I guess the powers that be decided that it would be less expensive in the long run to have a benefits coordinator in the building rather than outsourcing that position as well. I am grateful someone has been in town and in the building to talk to when I have had questions.
I don't speak "insurance" well, and I never have. It might as well be Greek or Klingon or something. I realize that I need to have a better understanding of how the whole health insurance process works. All I know is, I go to the doctor and if I owe them something, they bill me. If I have overpaid, I get reimbursed. That part I can grasp. All the other stuff about deductibles and out-of-pocket costs and whatnot...I try to focus, truly, but something shiny comes across my field of vision and I get sidetracked! I'm not proud that I seem to lack the ability (or the inclination) to process such information more easily and thoroughly, but I am what I am, and what I am when bombarded with this kind of minutiae is bored. I can't help it.
Maybe during my leave I can sit down with all the collected invoices and letters and try to make sense of them. Maybe I can find an online tutorial called "Health Insurance for Dummies" and absorb the information that way. Whatever the case, I am just blessed and grateful to have health coverage, even with all the details that don't quite make sense to me. Without insurance, the only detail would be that I could not afford the surgery to begin with.
So I am looking forward to my STD. Four days and counting. Weight-loss surgery and STD now may very likely prevent long term disability later on.
Very few times in my life have I ever had to deal with things that made me feel like an actual grown-up. (Obviously there were times during Mama's illness when I felt like an adult, although after she died I felt more like a child, and an orphaned one at that.) The experience of being rear-ended and my car being totaled gave me a crash course in adulthood. When I had my gallbladder removed at age 30, then broke my leg and both sides of my ankle a couple of years later, there were things to take care of that made me feel like an adult. And now the surgery coming up in 4 days has reopened those feelings.
It was not the wreck or the surgeries that stressed me out. It was dealing with my insurance company! And for this short-term leave, it seems like there are a lot more details, and many more possible ways for me to get shortchanged. Payroll for my job was taken over by an out-of-house payroll processing company several years ago, so we no longer have an on-site payroll person to go to if there are errors with our paychecks. For a brief period my company had also decided that a benefits coordinator on-site was unnecessary, which resulted in a LOT of problems with employee leaves and pay. I guess the powers that be decided that it would be less expensive in the long run to have a benefits coordinator in the building rather than outsourcing that position as well. I am grateful someone has been in town and in the building to talk to when I have had questions.
I don't speak "insurance" well, and I never have. It might as well be Greek or Klingon or something. I realize that I need to have a better understanding of how the whole health insurance process works. All I know is, I go to the doctor and if I owe them something, they bill me. If I have overpaid, I get reimbursed. That part I can grasp. All the other stuff about deductibles and out-of-pocket costs and whatnot...I try to focus, truly, but something shiny comes across my field of vision and I get sidetracked! I'm not proud that I seem to lack the ability (or the inclination) to process such information more easily and thoroughly, but I am what I am, and what I am when bombarded with this kind of minutiae is bored. I can't help it.
Maybe during my leave I can sit down with all the collected invoices and letters and try to make sense of them. Maybe I can find an online tutorial called "Health Insurance for Dummies" and absorb the information that way. Whatever the case, I am just blessed and grateful to have health coverage, even with all the details that don't quite make sense to me. Without insurance, the only detail would be that I could not afford the surgery to begin with.
So I am looking forward to my STD. Four days and counting. Weight-loss surgery and STD now may very likely prevent long term disability later on.
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