Day One - The Great Hideout
The decision to pursue weight loss (bariatric) surgery wasn’t something I just blurted out one morning to my unsuspecting spouse. Instead, it was during a routine check-up with my primary care physician, even after I successfully managed to “not see” my actual weight the nurse recorded while I closed my eyes. I learned shortly into my visit, there is no way to hide from the number the scale registered. I was having problems sleeping, along with waking up with migraines on a regular basis—oh, and my knees hurt daily (and made weird crunchy noises, too). As I was discussing my concerns with my physician, I caught a glimpse of the top paper of my file and I saw the number. Everything I believed about my physical state of being changed in a matter of seconds. For me, “denial” had been a river in Egypt—one that I had clearly enjoyed floating down for way too long. Wake-up calls are never pleasant, and finding out you exceed the weight requirement to zip line did not disappoint (yes, that flashed through my mind and it’s a valid concern).
During the 30 seconds it took for my mind to process this new (and unwelcome) information, I remembered seeing an ad for bariatric surgery. And while it was sandwiched between panicky intervals and a complete jumble of thoughts which included zip lining, it’s the question I posed to my doctor after my initial shock wore off—was I a candidate?
