Well, it's the home stretch. My papers have been submitted to United Healthcare. This surgery has always seemed like a certainty to me. From the second I decided to do it, I have not doubted that I would have it done. Now that there is actually a chance that someone might tell me no, I am a little panicky.
I was totally confident until someone called from NYU on Monday and said that I needed a 5 year weight history. I have not gone to the doctor regularly for 5 straight years. I hate going to the doctor because they always tell me to lose weight. Um thanks. I hadn't thought of that.
I do go to my gyno regularly because I always convince myself that I have STDs. Not because I am promiscuous anymore or because I have symptoms. More because I don't have symptoms and I saw a Law and Order once where a guy had syphilis and killed a bunch of people because he didn't know. Apparently it scarred me. Irrational? Yes. I often am.
Anyway, my old gyno was a hot guy. Not advised. I would find myself afraid to tell him stuff because it was embarrassing. I would also primp and get nervous like it was my wedding night. None of this was good, so I found another doctor.
I called the office to get my records and the woman told me 2 weeks minimum. For those of you who hang your hat on my every word, you know that my surgery is in two weeks.
In the end it worked out. I don't need the 5 year history and now I just wait for my approval. Because it has to come. I will sell my body and go self-pay if need be. There is a large porno market for the rotund as I learned from an ex-boyfriend . . . but that's a blog for another day.