Well, if I didn't know how much I depend on food as a coping mechanism before, I sure do now. The whole "bowel prep" and clear liquid diet pre surgery thing is just so awful and I am finding myself wanting to reach for a handful of peanuts or granola just reflexively, without even thinking about it. I had to make sure I didn't have any food near me for fear I might accidentally eat something, seriously.
So tomorrow at eight AM I'm going in for my second weight loss surgery with Dr. Liu. He's amazing. His staff is amazing. I feel that he is the right doctor at the right time for me. Just to clear up any confusion for some of my friends here who asked, yes, I did have weight loss surgery a few years ago. I once weighed three-hundred-and-thirty-five pounds. I lost close to one-hundred-and-fifty pounds and have gained back about half of it or more.
I have a lot of shame about this and I have a lot to say about all of this but not now because I just took an Ambien and these little puppies are dangerous, they kick in quick and before you know it you're sleep-writing or walking or making phone calls. I swear to you I can easily slip into a kind of in-between-world twilight sleep state, keep writing, not being consciously aware of what I am writing, post this, go to bed, and then wake up wondering what the hell I did, with no memory of having done this. I can already feel it kicking in and am wondering if I've got everything sorted out for tomorrow, the whopping cashier's cheque for the surgery, my camera, etc. It's like having a black out if you take one of these and do too much other than go straight to bed, and it's scary. I should have waited to take it but I need to get exactly eight hours sleep and the clock is ticking. If I waited any longer to take it, I'd be late for my surgery.
Today was hard, hard, hard. I had to help a friend and do some challenging financial things. But at least it kept my mind off of how hungry I was, kept my brain from feeling sorry for me and wondering where my main drug of choice was, kept my mind off of the fact that I am purposely choosing to have a weird plastic or silicone ring inserted into my abdomen through several small incisions that will squeeze what's left of my stomach so tight that nothing bigger than a dime will be able to fit inside there. That and the thought that there will be a port, a tube that will connect to this ring and run up close to being just underneath my skin, close enough for me to feel, and when I don't lose weight, the surgeons will stick a long needle into it, fill it with saline solution that will then tighten the band, and make it impossible for me to binge. I don't dig the idea of having anything artificial in my body, but I might as well get used to it; I've already got an IUD, fillings in my teeth, am going to get dental implants, will end up having to have a breast lift with implants as well, and a tummy tuck, and God knows what all else. I want it all, Botox, restylane, the whole thing. I want to do it all but stop just short of looking like a certain very bizarre, only in LA, pink corvette driving celebrity who was sitting in the chiropractor's office when I came out on Friday. This whole frozen face, puffed up lips, pulled back eyebrows thing can get pretty weird looking if it isn't done super subtly. See, I'm rambling, I'd better stop.
The highlight of my day was being able to hold hands and play with a kangaroo named Boomer at a petting zoo near my house. I also got to cuddle a little baby goat. I rocked her and kissed her and she was so warm and wonderful. They also had an alpaca, a lama, and a cow creature with a hump that Scott said he thought was a bison or an ox? You don't learn these things when you spend your entire life living in a concrete city.
Well, there it went, my last sip of water before midnight. I don't know if I get to take my pills again in the morning, I have to take them with something or I'll barf. I guess I'll just take them to the surgery center and ask him what to do. BTW if you're ever getting the run around from a doctor, and getting a surgery you've been wanting to have for months scheduled just isn't happening, it would seem that doing what I did by threatening to stand in their waiting room and recite Shakespeare until they either help me out or call the cops is the way to go.
I'll see you back on the other side of anesthesia and my new life. Wish me luck?
PS: Atra finally called me back after about a dozen phone calls but she sounded forced and strange. She sounded like she hates me or has turned into a completely different person. As soon as I get better I'm going to go over there whether she wants me to or not and find out what's going on. I just couldn't be there for both of us in the way that I used to be able to at the same time. I did the best I could and I guess that wasn't enough and it hurt her feelings and she couldn't express this to me directly. I think she just wants me to go away and disappear but since we are neighbors she is just being polite. I don't know, it's breaking my heart.
PPS: Pinkberry. I finally tried it. I am going to be living on this stuff it's so good.