Went in for my consult with the anesthesiologists today. Upon walking in, the first thing they do is check my height. I am, without a doubt, most definitely, 5'4".
I start crying because I know how the rest of this appointment is going to go.
They take me to get my weight. Oh, and they won't let me take my jeans off. So fully clothed, I weigh-in at 236.8lbs.
I've crunched the numbers a whole lot. I know what writing is on the wall. They have me sit next to a hospital type bed, behind a curtain, to wait for the anesthesiologist and I'm just sobbing.
Bitch was made of ice. And of course she tells me that we can't move forward with this cycle.
Now bear in mind, I haven't eaten more than 1200 calories in a day in the last 3 weeks. And I couldn't really eat anything this morning because I wanted the numbers down as far as possible when I got on the scale. AND, my husbands damned cat kept waking me up through the night by scratching at the door. She's on a special diet, we feed her in the bathroom away from the other cats, so she's learned this last week that if she scratches on the door, I'll wake up and feed her to shut her up. So I'm starving, exhausted, and I've just been told that it's going to take even more dieting and at least another month before I can have my kid(s).
I was a wee bit upset. And I let her know it. I'm kind of sick of expressing how upset I am to the doctor and nurse that are fighting on my side already so I expressed it to the doctor who was saying no to me. A bitch who's never met me before and has no frame of reference of what a rational person I usually am.
In the end, I tell her to pin down what number I have to be and on what day of my cycle I have to be that number so I'll know for sure next cycle. 232lbs at suppression check. Those are the parameters.
And out the door I storm.
I call the husband and cry in his general direction for a while. I'm trying to calm down before I need to drive to my next appointment for the day. And then I decide to call my nurse since they said she would be calling me that afternoon anyway.
Apparently, bitch with no frame of reference for why a person in my position is as upset as I am is kind of freaking out and kind of alerting people that I might need a psych consult. She mentioned the red flags to me while I was bitching at her and I told her flat out "I've been depressed before, I'm not depressed, I'm momentarily upset. There's a difference and I'm very aware of that difference. I'm fine, but I'm pissed." So my nurse is a bit concerned and instead of venting about how upset I am, I'm forced to ensure people that I'm fine.
Get off the phone her, call Boss #1 who was expecting me in an hour and she's cool with me coming in on Friday instead of today. By now I'm calm enough to drive so I head over to Boss #2, a poor soul who only met me a few months ago and has never had the chance to know me when I'm not going into a cycle, hormonal from being mid cycle, or dealing with a failed cycle. I deliver the pots I've made for her this week and head home.
So my doctor calls me a bit later. He still wants to assure me that we will be able to do this, just not this cycle. That they are still working on getting the paperwork done so that fat girls can get the procedure done in a hospital rather than in the office. It's just going to be a month or two before that's finalized.
You'll pardon me if I don't count on that ever happening.
And he kind of gives me a parental speech about not saying red flag things when upset. Gee, thanks. I control myself 99.9% of the time. Yes, I let my mouth fly today, because I wanted someone to actually feel something in regards to what their policies are doing to actual people. But I still confirmed that I was fine before I left. I think the fact that I didn't throw anything at the icy bitches face is a testament to how controlled I actually am.
So here's where my 5'4" frame stands - I'm hungry. I've starved it to the point of starting to have dizzy spells the last day or two. For the next few days, I'm going to just eat whatever I feel like eating (within reason). I understand that my weight is going to spring back up 5lbs or so, but I need to put a halt to the starvation process. Then starting next week, I should be at a point where I'll need to lose about 10lbs and I should have 6-8 weeks to do it. So I'll start a 1,500 calorie a day diet and try to get that weight down at a more reasonable pace, knowing I can probably crash the last couple of lbs if it comes down to the deadline. And, by then, they might have a backup system in place anyway.
Got a Subway sandwich and some cookies on my way home. Drinking the Coke that's been taunting me from the back of the fridge these last 3 weeks. And picked up some Jr. Caramels at the gas station so I have a little bit of chocolate nibbles in the house this week.
Harry Potter at a luxury/gourmet movie theater tomorrow night. And I intend to enjoy my meal and movie thank you very much!