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I am both happy and upset right now. I wish I'd had a little more money saved and gone private as I planned to do, but then had to divert the money to my father for his surgery.
I met my consultant this morning. He was totally wonderful. We had conversed via email beforehand, so I was actually really looking forward to meeting him. It all went very well indeed, He was great. He told me the risks too - but I can't handle that - I know the risks, I just have to live in denial and deal with any chaos should it arise. My BMI was also higher than he first expected, but he said he would be happy to go ahead.
He then sent me off for a couple more tests, after the weigh in and height measure. I had never understood how people knew their height. I hadn't been measured since school and at school without shoes, I'd come in at 5ft 6inches and always said that, but I've shrunk 2 inches. I'm only 34years old, and always thought you shrink after 60..so umm... yea.
And my home scales lied to me!!!!! The hospital scales are a stone heavier. My weight was never an issue to me, although seemed to bug others, but I did feel a little deflated about it.
Then after that, he sent me down for pre-assessment (wasn't expecting that so soon, so was hopeful for surgery date very soon). The nurse was horrible! She said my body mass index was \"a huge 38\"! I should be 26 for surgery however, its up to the surgeon, but really I should go away and lose weight. I was shocked at her statement, because the surgeon had said it wasn't ideal by any means, but it was cool enough. I told her since Feb, my weight has dropped 5 stones...she replied, then you should keep trying to lose more. Ummm.... it wasn't by choice in the first place, but just one of the few positives of actually having gallstones! And it's worse for me too as the doctors can't explain why my Arthritis in my ankles is so much worse, when all my life they predicted it would be easier without weight. The only thing they can see is that the fat deposits between my ankle bones, have got smaller - so maybe my joints aren't as support! Grrrr!
Then when I told her about the Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, relating to a car crash and hospitalisation I have, she smothered a giggle when I told her about some sizeist comments I'd over heard the staff make like the one about the 'beached whale in Cubicle 5 that needs a trawler to haul her\" and other such comments. I was then 19.5 stones, and very big, but still wearing size 28 clothing comfortably. And very traumatised after the crash, so it really hit my hard. She composed herself, and said that it was awful, but I 'must have been a sight, strapped to the board\" !!! She added that it was just as well I will have to lead a zero fat lifestyle after surgery. I told her angrily I'm living on chicken drumsticks, fish, and Applejuice and water only since Feb. She said, 'well you shouldn't be frying them'. At which point I gave her a very big peice of my mind. The drumsticks have been roasted skinless, the fish is fresh not breadcrumbed, and baked as it comes from the sea! I have just posted a complaint letter to the hospital.
But anyway..... Then I told her about my OCD. This is a big thing for me. Perhaps bigger to me than the surgery. She bushed it off like it was nothing. Told me to just 'deal with it'. I couldn't make her understand how big a deal my anxiety is. I asked her to put it in my notes that I will be a panic stricken mess on the day, due to OCD, and would need 'kid-glove' handling. She said no, it wasn't necessary. But when she was out of the room, I added it in there myself - I didn't care.
Then the kicker. I have been in pain since January, and finally caved in and went to start the ball rolling in February. Under NHS rules the whole thing for this type of surgery, is meant to take 18 weeks. I am on my 25th week. As I am so bad at the moment, I am not fit to work, as I can't sit up for long, and am in constant pain, I have been praying for a date very soon - the mental battle is killing me. Unfortunately, my doctor didn't write immediately to the surgeon, and the nurse said its 18weeks from the date on the letter....that was July 17th! I can't believe it.
I'm so upset. I've been sitting here waiting all this time watching the world pass by my window, while my finances plummet around me . I want a job again, I want my life back, I want to be pain free, and more than anything in the world, I so very desperately want to go to Germany for a weekend, and see my boyfriend who is now staying out there for the foroeseeable future now. I just can't sit up that long at the moment. The surgeon said I can't fly for 6-8 weeks after surgery. And then I'd need stockings and injections in my tummy against Deep Vein Thrombosis....why the injections!!!!! But it basically means I won't be able to see him until next year March time, and the money is fast falling away. I'm so very upset right now.
Sorry for the rant. I'm just so upset with everything. And at the back of my mind, my brain is still screaming that there is something wrong with removing the gallbladder when so many people report issues afterwards, and why hasn't medical science come up with a way of preserving the gallbladder. And the fear is that it turns out bad, and I am stuck with the issues for the rest of my life......and yet, I can't live like I am now.
Massive Apologies for the rant. I was fine-ish before the horrible pre-assessment nurse made me depressed and anxious about it all again.
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