I promise the next post won't be so long...

I've bought a digital scale, so I can't cheat. First weigh in will be Monday.

The Beginning....

I have always requested the same Doctor in the practise I go to. I do this for two reasons: One, he's about my age, and he's a hottie. And secondly, he has always taken time with his patients to listen to their concerns and ideas and speak with them like they're friends or something. I never felt like cattle being herded thru his office. Until...day before yesterday. I went because I was ill. We're all ill. Product of the crazy weather I suppose...and too much stress on our immune systems. I decided since I was there, I would discuss my weight with him. This was unusual for me. My weight, is typically the LAST thing I want to discuss with ANYONE, much less a doctor. But I've been having these chest pains, and I have no energy, and frankly...I'm embarassed by my "front ass". A lot of the women I work with are taking the same diet drug. I figured I would mention it to him, and talk with him about things. I was afraid. I worried the chest pains would make him want to do a bunch of expensive tests or something. I was afraid they might suspect a heart attack, or that I had heart problems of some sort. I was so afraid of it, I had begun taking fish oil tablets on my own. They seemed to help...so maybe it was really just all in my head. But still, it took a lot of guts to speak up. My doctor, was not at all concerned about my chest pains. It was like he barely even heard me. As soon as he heard I was concerned about my weight, he immediately started pushing the same option he's mentioned to me for a couple of years now. Gastric Bypass. I'm a stage 3 ovarian cancer survivor. I've had a port-a-cath put in, and taken out. And my baby had to be born by cesarean. There was also another procedure to drain a cyst that I don't even want to talk about because it's embarassing. I've been cut enough. I've expressed to him before that I don't want to have Gastric Bypass. I told him I didn't want another operation... that it's not worth the risk of some of the complications...that I don't want the expense. I've also expressed to him that I felt like if I could do the things you are required to do before and after the surgery...I wouldn't NEED the surgery to begin with. I also expressed to him previously that I would feel like a failure if I couldn't lose the weight without this. So I expected him to talk with me...about my other options. Maybe recommend a nutritionist...or a different drug... or weight watchers... anything. But all he really did, was very excitedly put the referral card in my hand, and feed every fat woman's fears. That if I don't get it off now...diabetes is coming... my fatness will get worse and worse, my joints will go, I'm going to end up one of those fat people who have to ride around in an electric chair. AND he herded me out his office like the cow I felt like. I was angry. I was mortified. He made out like I COULDN'T lose the weight without this surgery. He flat out said that after you got past a certain BMI that it was pretty much impossible to do. So what now? I felt like I only had two options. Have the gasteric bypass... or prove him wrong. I've proved doctors wrong before...when they said I wouldn't survive the cancer...when they said I might not be able to have a baby... but this is different. I've struggled with my weight my entire life. The question looms over me... what if he's right? What if I can't do it? What if I have to resort...to gastric bypass. Would it be so bad? My parents have both had it... but... I'm still young. I want the body on the outside to match what I see in my head. Some days, it feels like I'm as big as some of those "fattest woman in the world" videos on tv. Others, I feel like I'm not that much bigger than the average person. I have no idea what a "normal" serving size is. I do know that veggies and fruits and water... are better for you than McDonalds french fries and sweet tea and hamburgers. I know that I need to get exersize, and that I can't try to do so much that the next day I'm crying in the shower because I hurt so badly I feel like I've been used as a pinata. I'm starting this blog, for me. It's a place to write about my feelings, and my progress, and my setbacks... and just...the journey. If I were a betting person... I don't know that I would bet on me. I can't promise that I'm going to make it. But, I might...