Bariatric patients often go through some crazy crap.... like when you are burning fat, you end up with copious amounts of hormones screaming through your system. Hormones that had been stored in your fat cells, now freed up to cause holy hell on your heart and your mood.
And depression is a sometimes side effect as well. Thats a fun one to go along with the whole hair-loss bit.
Honestly, I was looking forward to being lighter so that I could run, but I'm finding that when I'm walking, my left side hurts. Mostly when I'm breathing deeper. But it hurts, I would swear, near my heart. Not thrilled about that, and I'm only hoping now, that it lightens up by this summer... cuz right now running is out of the question. As is anything more strenuous than walking.
I also don't dare to try and figure out what the problem is... I literally cannot afford to go to the doctor. Probably.
I was looking forward to fixing the gigantic hernia above my belly button... but that's out of the question for years, perhaps. Depending on insurance and negotiations with the hospitals.
I was also looking forward to wearing smaller sizes of clothes... I can afford to purchase second hand clothes only (again, in anticipation of things not going my way financially)... which, whatever. I live near some pretty great Thrift Store options and I'm not particularly proud. I've been a thrift store shopper from way back. I just feel a little dumb in my $5 Walmart bras. And not very sexy.
...and now that I'm feeling a little cuter, and a little more like myself, I've been eye-balling cute Dr. Marten boots. But really, I shouldn't get any even if I can find some cheap online, cuz my freaking FEET are getting smaller. For reals.
I really just hate how all of my free time is now spent making depressing and disheartening phone calls to representatives who don't know jack, and really, all they want to do is "set up a payment plan" and get you off the phone. I hate how I've been yelling at these hapless stooges. And crying. I hate the crying and how freaked out I'm getting over this mess.
I'm sad and feel betrayed by my "employee advocate" who claimed that the insurance companies call her "the Bulldog" cuz she's so tenacious. She isn't an advocate... she's a glorified Google. She's a professional "expectation manager." She had the gall to tell me that my main job right now is to heal and be okay and get better, when she knows that really, my main job is to try and mitigate the financial FUBAR that I'm facing. I have time deadlines. She knows that. Now is the time to do THAT.
I hate how it has to be me working through this mess. Not really sure why I'm so resentful of that. It IS my mess. But I am. Resentful.
I would hope that no one that I care about ever has to navigate these dark waters of insurance and hospital billing, because no one.... and I mean NO ONE knows how to do it, least of all anyone who answers the phones at the Insurance or Hospital financial offices. The story is constantly changing.
But mostly I hate how I weep at the drop of a hat. And yell. I yell about how stupid the system is and how ignorant and useless the people who answer phones are. I guess when I get a letter in the mail saying if I have questions, to call a certain number, I expect that the person who answers the phone when I call that number to be able to answer my questions. But they rarely can.
And now I'm yelling on my blog.
The degree of difficulty of just simply living right now is beyond me.
