My plan is to write daily. I don’t see that happening, but better to have a plan than none, right?
I’ve been struggling not reaching out to Bennett, though somewhere deep in the recesses of my mind I have committed to NOT doing this until ost surgery. My birthday is coming….and I do have a hope, though mostly an unrealistic one, that he will say Happy Birthday to me.
I re-read my severance papers to find out I no longer have health insurance and went into a spiral. I am so angry. I could have stayed until September 5th if I knew it would cost me a month of health insurance. Everything about losing that job is making me angry at the moment.
I am officially “man-free” and “dating-app” free for the past two weeks. Although I miss the nonsense chat and the thrill of possibly connecting with someone, I don’t truly miss the difficulty of dating. I’m not ready anyway as I am no where near over Bennett.
I am 5 days away from surgery, which seems a bit unreal to me, and also signifies how my brain won’t process things until it firmly has to. I have been excellent about eating the past two weeks and have remained on a virtually liquid diet. The most whole food I have chewed is Tuna Tartare and the Chicken and Noodles in my chicken soup. Both acceptable as what they call “mushies.” I don’t actually have to go on a clear liquid diet until post surgery, but I will probably start that about 2 days before just because I am scared of having anything in my stomach. The diet isn’t to shrink your stomach, but your liver as chances are most obese people have fatty liver disease and don’t even know it.
I made buckets of homemade chicken soup for when I return and have bought sugar free popsicles and jello.
My surgery is not necessary, not from a surgical point of view. This is entirely voluntary. I heard it helps to reduce anemia, became curious and found out my cousin and her friends had done it earlier this year. I then looked into local doctors to find that the Gastric sleeve surgery here in my locale runs at least $18-$20k paying out of pocket. My BMI wasn’t high enough to qualify…..and funny thing – had I been caught out without health care and had qualified I may have just shot myself in the head at that point. But, I am paying out of pocket and I am going to Tijuana, Mexico, alone, to have the surgery.
I’m terrified to death, of course. I joined a few support groups and have found one lovely person who will be there right after me…we try to support each other off line. But there is plenty of support on line, as well as my cousin. None of these people are me, and none have been through the crap I’ve been through, so of course its a risk. And, I have always been high-risk everything. So why am I doing it? Because it is literally my reset button. This was my choice to reset my life in a way I felt I needed to.
A bad decision considering all my health concerns?
But back to that “I don’t care” part of my brain? The surgery falls into that part of my brain. I do not care. If I die, it was meant to be. But, I do not expect to die. I expect to be deal with the outcomes with pure will. I will come through this with no problem, I will be fine, and I will succeed.
I have to.
So, the big elephant in the room this month is my surgery. I fly to San Diego on Thursday September 6th and I have surgery in Tijuana on Friday September 7th. Assuming all goes well, I fly home on Tuesday September 11th.
I have told my two closest friends and no one else. I have not told my local doctors. I will tell my son before I go. And you, now you know.
When I return, I have an appointment with the gynecologist to discuss my female problems. I have decided there is no way in hell I am having a hysterectomy. I was with a close friend last weekend and she is miserable. That caused my ultimate decision to never have one. If the fibroids grow too big or I end up with another exploded cyst, I will deal with it then. I am not knowingly going to lose the last part of my womanhood. I’m just not going to do it.
I have no doubt the doctor will scream at me for the Gastric Sleeve surgery. I don’t care, my decision is made.
I have been trying, really trying to get in my 10k steps every day but I am not surly able to do it. I really hate exercise. But, I do try, every day. Today I was on my bike for 20 minutes and then did a 10 minute arm work out using my Peleton app. I cleaned the garage which required bit of lifting. But even then, I hit only 5k. I need to go take a walk if I want to make 10k. I just don’t want to do it. This is going to be a key part of my recovery and reset….I must exercise. As much as eating less and eating properly, I need the exercise.
Why am I so unmotivated? I hate this feeling. This awful, sinking feeling that there is nothing in front of me. No job, no love, no income. This is why I chose the surgery, to force self forward with a change I cannot escape from.
My heart still hearts so badly each time I dwell on Bennett and I truly try not to. Maybe I should think of a punishment system for myself….if I dwell I need to…? Exercise. That would be the punishment. Lol. I know its my hormones, its clear now that the worst of it is around the same time of my cycle each time. The sadness first, then anger later. Nice PMS cycle my body has chosen late in life.
I did get two posts in, and will start the countdown to surgery now.
First, my youngest goes off to school on Wednesday and I will prepare and leave meals for the two boys for the few days I’m gone. Even though their father knew I was traveling (he doesn’t know why) he went away with a woman because “he never gets to do anything” and “no one jumps for him.” Very fatherly thoughts, eh? He didn’t care that I wouldn’t be home and said they should fend for themselves. Yes, they are old enough, but that’s not really the point is it? The point was its his parenting time, he knew I was away, and he still made the decision. He is just a selfish bastard,