Tomorrow I go to New Haven to meet with Dr. B., my surgeon for the gastric bypass, and have pre-surgery testing. You all know how much I love going to doctor's appointments. I am feeling rather split these days. On one hand, the surgery is no big deal; I have been through worse, and more painful surgeries in the last decade or so.
The dangerous parts-anesthesia, heart failure, infection-are things over which I have no control . I've done my homework, picked a meticulous surgeon, chosen a good hospital, and made the decision. The rest is in the hands of the Mother.
On the other hand, OMG! I am choosing to have my stomach made into a pouch the size of my Chihuahua's brain. I have to learn to eat all over again, and in a radically different way. I'll have to cope with everyone asking me how I am, making a fuss, commenting on my body size-smaller is good, but it is also noticeable and fair game for discussion. I will also have to deal with what ever demons rise when I can no longer use food as an escape All stuff I'd rather not have to do.
But I will.
I know that I am not someone who leaps gladly and hopefully into change. For a lot of reasons, change is scary for me, and I always want to put it off. On the other hand, I have learned that I actually do change quite well after I have spent inner time on the idea of making whatever change life necessitates. I can see this well with 20/20 hindsight, but still am struggling to believe changing well will happen again this time.
But it will.
I can see this is by way of a pep talk to myself, in preparation for tomorrow's adventures, Poor Rene is taking me down, preparing for a long day, and working to convince me she is happy to do so. She is a good woman, because she hates hospitals a lot more than I do! I'll let everyone know how it goes.