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.

Less is More...

...except when it isn't

Weight loss comes with some paradoxes that have never made much sense to me.  Now, with surgery a week and a half away, I seem to be thinking more about those paradoxes.  And I'm remembering some moments from my previous successes with shrinking, brief as they were, that bothered me.

I suppose the most obvious paradox is that "Losing is Winning!".  Television made that paradox literal with the program, "The Biggest Loser", where the person losing the most weight during the show's season wins a boatload of cash for their efforts.  I won't bore you with my opinions about diet and exercise for profit, either the contestants' or the television network's.  How they choose to go about the process is up to them.  I will say that I heard (from a VERY reliable source) that the show's executives/producers urge those contestants to try to look as bad as possible in their audition tapes and in the first few episodes.  It makes the contrast at the end of the season much more vivid... and it's just good television.

Then there is the whole attitude that "Less is More".  Having been a plus-size lady for most of my life, I can speak to this with some authority, particularly regarding how American society views plus-size people as invisible...but once we shrink, all of sudden, we are indeed visible.  During my last major weight loss many moons ago, I had some weird moments.  For example, people who had never given me the time of day before started coming out of the woodwork, suddenly interested in hanging out and getting to know me better.

Why?  Why was I suddenly worth talking to when I had not been worth it before?  I was the same person I had been 50 pounds ago.  I had been right there under their down-looking noses all along.  All that changed was how I looked.

If I seem to have a chip on my shoulder about this, I do indeed.  Because of my own weight and size issues, I have always been very aware of how often people are judged solely based on appearances.  Being a singer has both helped and hindered me in this regard, because people halfway expect classically-trained singers to be a bit zaftig.  Just not too much.  It's a thin line between "curvy-cute" and "gobby fat".


I've walked on the wrong side of the fat thin line for a long time.  And the paradoxes will continue to intrigue me.  Less body weight for me will indeed mean more strength.  So by losing, I will gain, and win.    

Today is the First Day of the Rest of My Life...

...and of the "very low calorie"  pre-packaged food phase


I turned 48 on Sunday and, after months of medically-supervised weight loss and months of CPE, I celebrated the day by napping, watching some DVRed television I hadn't been able to get around to watching, and more napping.  I've been pretty sleep-deprived so the napping felt especially good.  Lots of Facebook friends posted birthday wishes on my wall, and I have to admit, it is nice to be remembered, even in a 2-second-cyber kind of way.

I'd be remiss if I didn't share the story of my birth as it was passed down to me by my Mama.  I was born on May 20, 1964, a Wednesday morning, at 11:57 am.  Mama always said that her labor with me was short, about 4 hours, and that by the time Dad got her to the hospital all Dr. Shouse had to do was "catch" me as I emerged.  During part of her labor, Mama had to wait for Dad to get ready to face the world by doing all of his "S's" (s**t, shine, shower, shave, shampoo).  Then she made his breakfast, after which he drove her to the hospital for Dr. Shouse to put on his baseball mitt and make like a catcher.  Mama always said I was born singing.  I always figured that, since I was a week overdue, I more likely came out complaining that I'd been awakened from a nap and asking for something to relieve the headache I am sure I had from the moment I was conceived.  Pretty inauspicious beginnings, but really, what could I have done to change it?!

Monday was "meals with friends" day.  I went to support a friend going through a hard time on Monday morning and afterward several of us enjoyed a nice lunch together.  Then I went home, curled up with the dog for yet another nap!  Bliss!  When The Hubs got home, he and I met another friend for supper.  I chose healthy options at both meals, except lunch was probably too carb-heavy.

Yesterday was all about the last few pre-op appointments.  I had an appointment with the sleep center to go over my CPAP use and instances of apnea since my last checkup with them.  After that I had a little free time before going to pre-register for admission and surgery at the hospital where I will undergo my procedure.  I spent that time at my favorite Christian bookstore, browsing and enjoying the quiet atmosphere there, and purchasing a few books to commemorate CPE and surgery.  (I will admit to being a geek in that I often buy books to celebrate/mark an occasion/reward myself for some accomplishment.)  Then off to the hospital I went for pre-registration.

My final stop was at the weight-loss center for my supply of pre-packaged, high-protein, very-low-calorie foods for the final 2 weeks before surgery.  I began that regimen today and as a result, I am hungry, tired, headachey and cranky.  The stomach growls returned today with a vengeance.  I know, though, that this won't last long and it is an important step toward a worthwhile goal.  The Hubs asked how I got along today and I was honest about feeling hungry and irritable.  But I also told him, "I can do anything for a little while."  And I can.

The time is going to fly by, and 2 weeks from today I will have the surgery that is going to change my life.  It's a little strange to try to wrap my head around how close it is now.  God has been so gracious in this journey and I am so grateful for the many times in my life when He has given me a second chance.  That is what this surgery feels like, a second chance...to regain a healthier body, to relieve the aches and pains that have crept up on me in the last few years, to make the most of the life I have left.  Most of all, it will help me to serve Him more effectively, capably and joyfully.  After all He has done for me, I can surely deal with some hunger pangs.

Inside The Window...

...or Through the Looking Glass?


I am inside the one-month window until my surgery!  I can barely believe it is so close now.  As surgery approaches, my choral group's concert season and my unit of CPE are coming to an end.  These things are all somewhat bittersweet for me, especially CPE.

Within the safety of my CPE peer group I have found acceptance, support and love as I have completed the unit, learned how to minister and listen better, and worked toward getting my healthy habits established prior to surgery.  These people, all of whom I now consider to be friends, have contributed so much to my life in these past few months that I find myself at a loss as to what I am going to do without their weekly presence in seminar and PPI (personal and professional identity, the part of class when we speak freely and with no specific agenda).  And the real surprise is that I am already thinking about when I can do another unit!  As tired as I've been during the unit with so much reading, writing, nights on call and extremes in emotion, it has still given me much more than it has taken out of me.

Next week I go in for the big 4-hour diet class.  The Hubs will go with me because he will be helping me during my recovery from surgery.  I expect another weigh-in at that time and I am trying/praying to shave off a few more pounds between now and then.  At this class they will probably also start my "extremely low-calorie pre-surgery diet" which will no doubt be...challenging.  But it's temporary until surgery, and then everything will change.

Everything.

I don't pretend that I'll sail through surgery and recovery, and I don't expect that this process is going to be easy.  What I do look forward to is beginning the transformation, experiencing the world and myself in new ways.  It will be a journey unlike any other of my life, much as CPE has been....rigorous, unfamiliar, exhilarating and a step toward a larger goal.

Through the looking glass indeed.

Back to the Future...

...Or Shrinking My Way Into A New/Old Wardrobe


 An eagerly-awaited package arrived in the mail the other day. I am planning/hoping to attend the triennial conference of my music fraternity at the end of July, and there are a couple of dressy events planned, as always. One is a Rose and Grey dinner (the Fraternity colors) and many attendees wear those colors to the dinner. I ordered myself a very pretty silvery-grey dress to wear, and I ordered it in the smaller size I expect to fit me by then! When the dress arrived I was almost giddy over how pretty it is, and how nice I'm hoping I will look in it.

 I went to the conference 3 years ago in 2009, and probably at my highest weight/largest size ever. The Rose and Grey dinner was something I approached with some trepidation because of what I wore and how it looked. I chose a loose, flowy rose-colored dress with matching wrap that I fashioned into a drapey cowl-like situation in the front, hoping to make it at least a little bit flattering. At my size and shape...well, you've heard of the proverbial pink elephant, right? Yeah, pretty much. Another event is the memorial ceremony in which we celebrate the lives of our members who have passed away. It is a moving and meaningful occasion for which we dress in white. I have a very pretty white dress hanging in my closet that has been way too small for a very long time. Empire-waist, eyelet bodice with a long, flowing, lettuce-edged skirt that reaches to my ankles. It's one of the prettiest, most ladylike dresses I've ever owned. I am hoping that I'll be fitting into it by conference time as well.

 Like most women with weight issues, I have clothes in lots of different sizes. LOTS. Jeans, for example. They range in sizes ranging from "Curvy-but-cute" to "How-did-I-ever-let-myself-get-this-freakin'HUGE?!". There are t-shirts and sweatshirts I adore that haven't been on my body in forever because to try to put them on would result in a scene from The Incredible Hulk. "Don't make me angry. You wouldn't like me when I'm angry", followed by fabric shredding from the strain of trying to cover too much body. I still own my favorite sweater from college, and when I lost 65 pounds in 1994-95, I was able to fit into it again, but not for too long. A black velvet number with a plunging neckline from that 1990's period of shrinkage hangs in the deep recesses of my closet. It is a classic style that has held up well over the years, and now I have hope that I'll be able to fit myself into it again someday.

Stepping back into some of my old, smaller clothes will be like stepping back into time in some ways. It will be interesting to remember how my life was the last time I was at those sizes, sort of like when I hear an old song that transports me to an earlier era. But I realize that, even though I'll be shrinking, I won't be going back to exactly the body I had when I wore that size before, because age does things to change a body, whatever size it is. My boobs and butt have dropped, and drooped (and as we all know, the bigger they are, the harder they fall!). I might be able to back myself into a size 12, but my shape will most likely be different because of gravity, hormones, and time. I'll be able to fit into the black velvet dress again...but my cleavage may not look as great as it used to. And it did look great. ;-)

It's not about reversing time or regaining lost youth. It's about doing the best I can with what is left of my life, feeling better and getting stronger. I am prepared for the eventuality that most of my parts aren't going to spring back to the places they used to be! Zipping myself back into those old Levi's will be good enough for me.

Baby Steps,Giant Leaps and Taking Flight

Wednesday 3-28-12
Why growing up is a lifelong process


The last week has been INSANE.  I was out late every night due to rehearsals and concerts with my city's symphony orchestra.  A select group of female singers from the larger group I perform with had the opportunity to sing in the final movement of Gustav Holst's orchestral suite, "The Planets".  (Google it or listen on youtube.)  The music is ethereal and lovely in the final movement, called "Neptune---The Mystic".  It is a short but taxing little bit of music.  Its saving grace is that the composer uses the female choirs like instruments (no lyrics) and stipulated when he wrote the piece that the voices were to be heard and not seen.  So we sang from the wings, which meant no uncomfortable concert attire, no worrying about bad hair or if lipstick was on straight.  That part was great fun, as was the comeraderie among us ladies backstage.  Still, late nights and early mornings drained my energy a little.

Saturday night I had nothing extracurricular after work, so I was able to go home and get to bed reasonably early.  The extra sleep was much-needed because Sunday I was on call at the hospital for CPE and up pretty much all night.  That was followed by seminar, during which I presented my mid-unit review, and then music practice, so except for a couple of power naps at the hospital, I was up for 36 hours.  Home late Monday night and up early Tuesday morning to sing for the monthly in-service at the hospice where I volunteer and then a few more hours of patient visits at the hospital.

I got up yesterday morning feeling like I needed to go see my Dad and Bonus Mom.  I called to see if they'd be home when I got done at the hospital and asked what all was going on with them.  Bonus Mom told me that my northern uncle had passed away, Dad's only surviving brother.  I went and visited with them and stayed out way too late...but it was worth it in lots of ways.  We were able to talk about my uncle and share memories and laughs.  I also decided to go ahead and let them in on my surgery plans.  It went a lot better than I expected.  Dad was positive and he had some questions, and a couple of times he began to sound a little preachy.  I was able to divert that before it got uncomfortable by simply telling him that "my doctors and I have got that covered".  I know he is skeptical because he has seen my efforts at weight loss fail before.  And he clearly still views me as a child in some ways, not trusting me to make the changes that need to be made.  Some of his questions were:

"Has a doctor discussed basic lifestyle changes with you at all?" 

(Well, duh.) 

"Yes, and as a result I am off caffeine, off carbonation, down 25 pounds and getting lots of exercise when I am at the hospital."

"What exactly are they going to do to you?"

"The surgeon will laparoscopically go in and remove a big part of my stomach, including the part that releases the hunger hormone, then he will rework my intestines so that they won't absorb as many calories from the smaller amounts of food I'll be able to eat post-surgery, separating the limbs until the last 8-10 feet.  So I am having what's called a restrictive and malabsorptive procedure, which will help me to lose more weight faster and be more likely to keep it off."

"The Hubs going to go with you?"

Again, duh.  "Of course he is."

"Is there anything we can do to help you?"

"Sure!  Keep us both in your prayers as I continue to prepare, and then afterward while I recover."

Of course, there was more to the conversation, but he didn't have any questions that I was not prepared to answer.  Looking back to last summer when I went to speak to him about pursuing a unit of CPE and he wanted to give me another fat lecture and I was a wreck, I can see how far I've come both physically and emotionally.  The past week that I described earlier, the late nights, lack of sleep and all the physical activity being on call?  I don't know if I could have done it a year ago without crashing completely.

I've made progress.  I see the late nights and fatigue as baby steps.  Giant leaps have come in my adjustments to the physical and spiritual demands of being on call and juggling whatever comes in a given overnight shift. 

Learning about my uncle's death and then telling Dad about my surgery and not falling all to pieces?  THAT was like taking flight!  I have a long way to go and I know it.  I also know now that I am a lot stronger than I thought.  I can do this.

I can fly.

   

Small Bills, Please

Friday 3-9-12
Why surgery is not a cheap fix...


While The Hubs and I do a great deal of our banking online, I have also been paying many of my weight-loss related bills by check.  It is old school, requiring more effort and thought than simply clicking a mouse a few times.  It also makes the expenses more real in my mind than they might be otherwise.

Today, for example, I wrote checks to the hospital and a diagnostic lab for tests I had undergone as part of getting cleared for surgery.  I wrote three checks totaling nearly $425.  This is not small change in my world!  As I wrote in my last post, I used our entire tax refund and then some to pay my program fee for surgery and follow-up care in the year after surgery.  That was $3,000, and it is by no means all-inclusive. 

These are not small bills.

Thank God I am not a self-pay patient!  The total costs for weight-loss surgery can be staggering, ranging from $18,000 and up depending on the procedure needed, where it is done and the doctor who does it.  Insurance companies that cover weight-loss surgery cover it at different rates and have different criteria for a patient to qualify.  A friend of mine who works in law enforcement told me that their insurance requires them to pay a $5,000 program fee out-of-pocket.  Some insurance companies cover nearly everything, while others cover nothing at all. 

One might wonder why a person would go to such extremes and expenses "just to lose weight".  I used to be one of those who wondered about it.  I now understand that surgery is truly a last resort for those of us who have tried everything else without achieving permanent success.  I used to be able to lose pounds more readily, when I was younger, but I was never able to keep them off.  Now that I am not as young, it is even more difficult just to lose the pounds in the first place!

I have to make a lot of changes in the ways I think about food, my body, size and shape, and what it takes to get myself healthier.  Among other things, I have to realize and acknowledge that the expenses are worth it...
that I am worth it.  (L'Oreal has been saying it since I was a child, but they were only talking about the surface issues that could magically be addressed by purchasing their products.  How convenient.)

So today, as I slip a big chunk of money into the mail slot, my mantra will be:

I am worth it.  My health is worth it.  My self-esteem is worth it.  Easing the strain on my hips, knees and ankles is worth it.  Feeling better and enjoying my life are worth it.  I am worth it. 

I am worth it.