Is it time to throw in the towel?

This process is taking forever!  If I'm being honest, I'm not even sure I'm ready to take the plunge.  There is no turning back for me, but damn, what am I about to do?   

Paperwork was submitted to the insurance company over 3 weeks ago.  I should have heard back from Penn a week or so ago.  I called and left 3 voicemails to the admin who handles my scheduling and no returned phone calls. So, I called the head of the bariatric program who called me back.  Seems there are 5 patients waiting for the business department at Penn to get final wording from insurance companies.  My case has been on the books the longest with no response.  I certainly hope I hear something soon because I am desperate for motivation.

Food has been winning lately.  I've been on a junk food binge and enjoying it for the ten minutes it's going in my mouth.  My body is regretting every morsel.  I'm gaining weight.  My ankles are swollen. My face has adorned another chin.  I have no energy to do anything. I should walk.  Really. I should! But I don't. I'm typing when I should be walking.  Instead I go to bed early just so I can lay in bed and sleep so the next day becomes closer to a surgery date.  Yet, each day seems further and further away!

Plus side: ate the best cheesesteak of my life from Revolution House in Old City!(wait till after summer it get it to go cause the AC in the place sucks!)

Been a long time

So it's been awhile since I posted.  In part because I haven't had any appointments/procedures and in part to hitting a rough patch.   The waiting is torture.  

I've been battling depression for most of my life but I feel like I've come face to face with it and have it under control.  Occasionally, even in medication, I run into some low patches. The last few weeks are no exception. 

If my friends are reading this, I must apologize.  Unless there is a schedule event that I'm required to attend, I've pretty much just hibernates at home.  No real desire to leave the house much. Weekends, forget it.  Home on Friday and don't leave until work on Monday. My house is a mess. My weight is teetering back and forth. It's not like o sit home and have pity parties, I just don't have a desire to do anything.  Once I'm out and about, I enjoy myself.  That "putting one foot in front of the other" concept isn't really working much for me.

I reach out for "help" in my own way. Unless depression is familiar to you, one doesn't pick up on the "asking for help" signs.  This is my journey.  It's not anyone's responsibility to understand it, or even begin to.   However, a few nights ago, a new friend reached out to me.  She and I barely know each other, but have mutual involvement at a theatre company. She had heard of my impending surgery and reached out to me. She, too, underwent the same gastric surgery last year. (She looks amazing btw!). She's been a godsend to me. They say to ensure you have a support group throughout your journey.  I'm lucky to have my family and friends, but having my new friend has been extremely helpful. No sugar coating, just matter of fact pointers.  She confirmed that the few weeks leading up to surgery had been rough for her also.  Just hearing that from someone who went through it really awakened me.  I may be "going through it" right now, but being able to understand that it's normal has been refreshing.  Her words, "take a deep breath."

So for those really taking note of the process, my paperwork has been submitted to the insurance company.  I now wait for their verdict to approve surgery.

http://thoughtcatalog.com/koty-neelis/2015/04/13-things-to-remember-when-you-love-a-person-who-has-depression/

Almost Done!

I went to Quest Diagnostics for my final bloodword for pre-cert.  It's never fun to get poked and prodded (well, depends on the night) but Annette, the nurse, was awesome and painfree.  She had to draw 7 viles of blood for an abundance of tests. I assume there will be nothing alarming coming from them.  This is really the end of the testing.  On friday, I weigh in at the doctors office. From there, I call the friendly surgical secretary who will submit to CIGNA for me in anticipation of approval.

This time next week, I will be having a final hoorah in Mexico.  My official #byebyebelly party.  I pushed my journey back just for this trip.  I know it will be worth it.

Horton Hears a Who

After a brief fling with Jacques, I decided it was time to move on.  He just didn't get me.  He suffocated me and I just needed room to breathe.  I have since moved on to what I think will be a long term relationship with Horton.

My new CPAP mask is just a nasal covering instead of a full mouth and nose mask.  I've been sleeping successfully for the past week.  I still wake up wanting to keep sleeping but I think I just love sleeping.  What has drastically changed is that I am peppy all day.  I no longer get tired.  More importantly I haven't drifted off while driving. 

Jacques Strap

My new boyfriend Jacques and I slept together for the first time last night.  As many first times go, it took some time to get comfortable and find the rhythm.  I took deep breaths, he took deeper ones.  He was aggressive at times and very clingy. Every time I rolled over, he was right there. I may not like Jacques very much, but I need him.  I think tonight I might need to ease up a little and settle in.  Trust that he has my best interest at heart. 

The envelope please.....

I received a call early Tuesday morning with the results of my sleep study, not even 24 hours after turning in the machine.  On my way into a sales meeting, one in which I was hosting and had to be on my A-game, I am told that I have severe sleep apnea.  I don't know why this hit me so hard, but it did.  I sent messages to all my closest friends. They knew I was scared. They knew I needed a little TLC. I shouldn't be surprised at something I have known for years, but I suppose I ignored the severity just like I ignored the weight gain.  Due to the extreme apnea, they were putting in an emergency order for a CPAP machine to be delivered to my home THAT DAY!

I've been hiding it for a few weeks, but the depression is certainly kicking in.  I am ready to have this surgery. I am not ready to kee hearing how unhealthy I have been and for so long.  I am resentful that my primary care physician NEVER suggested any referrals to other medical professionals.  Why was it me who walked in and said that I wanted gastric surgery? Why did my doctor never suggest it?  I am angry and resentful. 

After my world came crashing down a few years ago I starting getting medical treatment for depression as well as ensuring my health was in tact.   Blood word was ordered and reviewed and my doctor mentioned to lower my carbs.  That's it!  When an obese women walks into a doctors office and says I'm looking to you to ensure I'm ok, you refer them to get checked out from a cardiologist and pulmanologist. You ask them, any trouble sleeping? When they tell you yes, you suggest a sleep study.  You don't send them on their way with a clean bill of health! 

My clean bill of health made me cocky. I figured this was my life.  No need to worry.  Then I had two emergency room visits within the year. Following up with my primary care physician and again, no other tests were ordered other than labs.

I am venting, I know. I digress a lot, I know.  There is a major disconnect in the healthcare system.  Primary care physicians need to encourage wellness by all avenues. Their are specialties in medicine for a reason!  I'm fat on my own. I blame no one for my illnesses and wel being.  But I certainly do believe the the health system has a responsibility to aid someone when they raise their hand and say, "Oooo, ooooo, ooooo, I have a question, please help me!"

Appt 10: Sleep Study

Got a call Monday morning telling me that my insurance (Cigna) does not cover in hospital sleep study.  However, they do cover one at home.  I was thrilled.  Initially my sleep study was set for two Seperste nights next week where I would check into the hospital and sleep over night, two nights in a row.  Even more enticing from the call I received, I could come in right away and pick up the sleep equipment.

I went down to Penn that afternoon and met with a lovely tech who showed me the monitoring apparatus. Taught me how to put it on and what to do.  That evening, I was in for a real treat.

In true Anne Marie form, I had to share a selfie!

I can normally "sleep" through anything. I'll explain the quotes later. This night, I wasn't feeling well.  I had a small headache, my stomachs was nauseated, from what I don't know.  I attempted to fall asleep around 11.  I wad unsuccessful.  That night, I couldn't even tell you if I slept at all.  It seemed I was awake every hour, uncomfortable, aware of being monitored, and just plain ill.  By 7am the pulse monitor battery was dead and I took that as my sign to remove the rest of the equipment.  At that point, I went back to sleep for an uninterrupted, and what seemed heavenly, two hours.

I dropped off the machine back to Prnn on my way to work.  I wanted to tell the tech about my night but there wasn't anyone to speak with.  I was told they would read the monitor and be in touch.

The rest of the day I was lethargic and feeling like I was getting the flu or something.  It was brought to my attention by a friend that I seem to feel this way after every visit to the hospital.  Perhaps he is right.  I mean, I got the flu shot, but I do always feel sickly after leaving that environment.

The results of the sleep study are not surprising but severe.