I went on my honeymoon to Disneyland last week, just came back on Monday night. It was tons of fun, Kourtney and I had a blast. I started Tuesday morning totally happy because I was coming back from an amazing vacation.
I also had a doctor’s appointment Tuesday morning. It was my psychological evaluation for the Kaiser bariatric program. By then end of the appointment, I was holding back tears.
I don’t want to go into all of the details of what happened. Dr. said at the beginning of the appointment that it was going to feel like an interrogation and he was absolutely right– I felt like I was on trial. Everything bad I’ve ever done seemed to come up. My vacation weight gain (two pounds. I wasn’t surprised.), my stint in the eating disorder treatment program, my past binge eating, my food restriction, my alcohol intake (which I thought was pretty tame, but from the way he reacted you would think I was an alcoholic). We have a huge list of behaviors we’re supposed to abide by and things we’re supposed to eliminate from our life, and I have been trying to work on them a few at a time: taking small bites, chewing 30 times before swallowing, eliminating carbonated beverages, eliminating snacks, only eating three meals a day, eating my protein first. I’ve obviously not done everything all at once, but I thought I was going at a pretty good pace, changing so many behaviors. I was so so wrong.
Also, I really REALLY don’t like this psychologist. Everything is rehearsed, so he comes off as very inauthentic. Like, what is he actually thinking? What are his actual thoughts, because all I hear coming out of his mouth comes straight from the binder they gave us at orientation. It feels like he’s reading straight from a book. Also, he’s a thin European guy who has probably never struggled with weight in his life. He constantly interrupted me during our session, I could barely finish a sentence before he would stop me and tell me all the things I did wrong. He was very condescending and patronizing. I knew before I even got to the appointment that I didn’t want to work with him, and now I REALLY don’t want to work with him. I don’t trust him with my mental health.
Anyway, he basically said that he doesn’t think I’m ready to commit to the post-op lifestyle. I have to do monthly weigh-ins for the next three months. I have to meet with him AGAIN in three months. Then he gets to decide if I can move on in the program (meet with a surgeon, go to the required classes, get my surgery date). He said that if I follow the meal plan to the letter (1200 calories a day, no snacks, no coffee or tea, no alcohol, no carbonated beverages), I should be able to lose 50 pounds by then. So I have to lose 50lbs in 3 months. And if I can do that, then we can “re-evaluate”.
Now, this is a rant. So I know that I’m supposed to follow the plan regardless, I know that it’s a required part of the program. I’m just like…. IF I COULD LOSE 50LBS IN 3 MONTHS ON MY OWN I WOULDN’T NEED THIS FUCKING SURGERY.
He also said that he was concerned about my past restrictive eating and thinks that it could be a barrier for surgery, despite the fact that I haven’t been symptomatic in that way in years. So that’s another thing that could prevent me from getting the surgery, and I have no control over that because it is in my past, it’s already happened. I can’t change it. I’m mad that my past is being used against me. I understand why, but that doesn’t make it any less of a blow. I’m mad that this guy, who I do not like or trust, is the one I have to report my progress to, the one I had to basically give my life story to. I’m angry about having to wait three months for an answer on whether or not I can have surgery, even though I didn’t want to have surgery until next summer anyway. I’m mad that once again I feel like a failure (and that’s not his fault, even if he is an asshole). I put on a brave face while in session– or at least I think I did– but as soon as I got in the elevator I couldn’t stop the tears from falling, and by the time I got out of the building I was bawling. I walked from the medical building to the Bart station (three blocks away), and I stopped twice and just cried and cried and cried. I couldn’t stop sobbing, it was terrible. I was just overwhelmed by the whole experience. Emotional overload. I was angry and hurt and frustrated and scared. Also embarrassed. Lots of people passed by me, probably wondering what the hell was wrong with the fat chick in the Disney jacket. I tried to hide my face and close my eyes and make myself small, hoping that that would make me invisible or something. So no one would notice me.
It took me 30 minutes to get to the Bart station (it should take less than 5). And I cried on the train to work, too. I almost didn’t go to work at all, but I didn’t want my coworkers to think that I was weak or some sad bullshit like that. I’m constantly worried that my coworkers will see my depression and anxiety and stop liking me. So I was tempted to not even come in, because I didn’t want to burst into tears in front of them for what would seem like no reason. But I went, and I didn’t burst into tears, and I actually felt better for awhile because I didn’t have to think about the awful appointment because I had work to do. Everyone at work wanted to know how my trip to Disneyland was, so they didn’t even notice my puffy eyes.
Anyway, I’ve bought myself a food scale, and I started the program meal plan this morning, and now I know how much I don’t like cheese (I had a cheese stick with breakfast this morning). I’m going to follow the plan to the letter, and I’m going to lose weight. Partly because I want to be healthier, but mostly so I never have to work with this guy ever again. January can’t come soon enough.