I got the call.
I finally got the call.
50 weeks after my first meeting with the doctor I got the confirmation: I am getting surgery on August 4th 2014.
I was in shock. I was excited but I felt like it was just a dream...
The hospital called me at work and my boss handed me the phone so I was kind of scared at first until I heard the secretary say she was calling to confirm my surgery date. I quickly wrote everything down to make sure I didn't forget anything. I then handed the phone back to my boss and told her. It's happening!
I got to tell my closest family and friends, all of which seemed more excited than I was (only because I'm still processing the fact that's its actually happening).
I waited for 4 years. 4 long years. During those years I met with another doctor (who was pushing another surgery on me and made me feel super uncomfortable)... Mind you I had waited a whole year for his clinic to call me to even acknowledge they had received my request to get on the waiting list. You can imagine my despair when that whole process flopped.
I then put myself on the waiting list for another doctor (of which I had heard of after browsing an online chat forum filled with other people who were waiting, who were going for their tests, and some who had just had their surgeries (lapband or other). This new doctor apparently only did the lapband and was the best and it was apparently really worth it seeking his help. So I got on the phone and gave my information to the secretary. I was excited. There was something. About 9 or 10 months later I received a letter advising me that the doctor had to take an early retirement and all the patients and future patients on the waiting list would be transferred to other nearby doctors. Guess where? To the clinic of the first doctor. I wasn't too pleased but figured maybe it was meant to be.
Well I was wrong.
I called the clinic (now back with doc #1) to ask about my ranking and to know if there was any plans of scheduling me for an appointment anytime soon? "No ma'am. If you were not seen by him yet and you were on his wait list then you have to fill out the form on our website so someone call contact you to get on our waiting list."
Here I was. Back at square one. I waited for over a year before they contacted me the first time and they tried to force a decision on me. I wait another year with a different doctor only to be pushed back to the doctor I didn't like and to top it all off have to fill out the form once again and risk waiting another year if not more?
I wasn't having it. That's when I nearly gave up.
Until I read on the forum about ladies getting their surgery done at a hospital near my hometown. Not exactly practical by public transit (leaving from Montreal to go somewhere on the South Shore by metro and bus can sum up yo a total of 3 hours of transit...)
There wasn't much info but I decided to look up the hospital's number and give them a call. I gave my information and left it at that. I honestly forgot about it and kind of became used to the fact I would be forever fat. Forever unhealthy. And forever insecure.
Now before someone comes on and says that I'm taking the easy way out do your research.
Fast forward to a year later (July 2013): I'm home recovering from carpal tunnel release surgery and get a call saying I could come to a group meeting and get information. So I went with my mom and got myself "registered" for an appointment with the surgeon.
That went well. Although different types of surgeries can be performed he genuinely respected my choice of the lapband and I felt comfortable with him accepting my decision.
Fast forward a few months... I have a series of tests at the hospital (ECG, bloodwork, weigh-in, etc) and leave to go home with a device to measure my heart rate to see if I have sleep apnea. I didn't get a call back so I assumed I'm fine. I also met with the anesthesiologist in February 2014 who explained the anaesthesia and a bit of what she did which was comforting.
Now here we are. July 2014. And I'm getting my surgery next month. It is no longer a process. It is no longer a dream, an aspiration, a desperation. It is finally reality.
Sunday (tomorrow) marks day 1 of my "detox" diet. I now have to "shrink" my liver to make sure the surgeon can get easy access to the top portion of my stomach (where it connects to the duodenum). I have to put my mind to it and really focus for 39 days. It motivates me even more now that it's happening. I'm ready.
So I'm putting aside that I'm in the midst of moving and im going to concentrate on my 30 days. I have to go out and buy my "diet" foods and wanted to take "before" pictures.
I think I'm going to try to document the process from here on out. I wish I had read something so detailed when I was first doing my research.
Who knows!
Until next time,
gabythegirlnextdoor
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