Bariatric Surgery. Yes, I'm another 'fatty' looking to 'cheat' and get my stomach chopped off, have my esophagus rerouted directly to my ass. Shut up, no one cares how you think I should lose weight. I've tried your shitty 'natural' ways of proper diet and exercise ( WHICH, might I add- is a damn waste of time. And I haven't anytime for nonsense ) and they all suck and resort to my butt getting fatter and being entirely miserable before, during & after. So if you think for a second putting me through guilt in anyway is going to change a damn thing, do yourself a favor and close this page and go refresh your Facebook page. Someone you give less shits about has probably posted something delightfully less interesting.
So, aside from the obvious struggles of maintaining an unrealistic diet to become healthier, I have been trying & trying to get this surgery done so I can break out of this ridiculous prison I have built around myself. Not only am I fat, I'm considered 'poor'. ( Yep, now those of you against YOUR tax dollars going towards the lower working class whom ALSO pay into it, idiots, go ahead and refresh your Facebook as well) Anyways, My husband, my daughter and I are all on Medi-cal- IEHP. It's pretty unheard of to have this surgery go through, but in recent years of my crappy health (not all weight related... Could you even imagine!?) They have decided to approve the surgery if I jumped through rings of fire, wear an unflattering leotard and jump off the high dive into a diet coke can. For those of you who aren't familiar, it's also known as Weight Watchers. An excellent program might I add for those who like to pass time by filling themselves full of bullshit, this is an excellent hobby for you to pick up. So, I did it- Six months times two because the first and second time I didn't do it their way. I was always, for whatever reason, missing something. Until, one day- Roughly $500 down the hole and 4000 over dramatic tears shed, I got mad. Called, finally talked to the 'right' person who knew how to do their damn job, and things actually starting happening! They happened! Like, people actually did something! Yeah! All the sudden my ass was in a fatty seminar about being less fatty with saggy skin, getting consults all the way to pre-op shit! No joke, totes serious! .... But I, the pessimist was like, "nahhhhh, there's something not right. Too good to be true. I'll eat this over sized two person burger NOT holding my breath, and then pretend I'm not hungry.... Pass your fries, never throw out good fries." And your friends and family are rooting for you, like they should, being optimistic, awesome, all that jazz! Slowly, after a couple months you start to believe it, because deep down, you want to believe it! THAT'S where I fucked up. I believe it. God damnit. So now, thanks to my husband grabbing some extra shifts during December to help make Christmas amazeballs for all- We stand the chance at 'making too much to be on Medi-cal.' Are. You. Kidding. Me.
TOO MUCH!? Too much. I can't even. I. Can't. Even.
So, here I sit. Just trying to talk to someone, anyone from Medi-cal. Hoping they will just call me back so we can have a nice, humane, chat. 'Splane to me what the fuck just happened. He could tell me a donkey dick smudged the paperwork and sucked it ups it's ass, that would be okay with me. Just as long as I heard why the fuck $200 bucks for ONE MONTH changes our income so drastically.
Starting to wonder if it matters. I had to get an EKG done, which I've had done several times before all of my surgeries and the reading came back abnormal. Never before has this been an issue before surgery, they generally blame it on being a super fatty and my super power is fucking up all machines engineered for all you stupid skinny healthy buttnuggets who don't need it anyways. But this time, they want me to see a Cardiologist. So... That was the first set back before the insurance crap. Otherwise, it would have been done already.
Fuck yea. A heart problem. Pass me the damn tequila and a cigar. I may start to give shits if we're not careful.