I have been incredibly lazy this Sunday. I woke up rather late, but it wasn't the first time I woke up. We had quite a thunderstorm going on that woke me up much earlier, and the rain was hitting the window rather loudly. It's July. It doesn't usually rain here at all this time of the year, so it was rather strange. I crawled back into bed after a quick run to the bathroom and quickly drifted back off to sleep. I don't normally sleep so late any day of the week, but it was nearly 10:00 AM when I woke up next. I was a little bit ashamed of myself. I've just been so tired.
When I met with Dr. K on Thursday, he mentioned that he wanted me to have a pulmonary consult before we will move forward with the surgery. What that really means is he thinks I may have sleep apnea. It's not the first time this topic has come up with my husband and my son who both have claimed that I snore or at least sometimes act like I have stopped breathing and then come back with a loud snort or something in my sleep. I have always assumed they were exaggerating and trying to embarrass me. (my son anyway). My husband has been somewhat concerned, but never pushed me to see the doctor about it and quite frankly, I have a hard enough time falling asleep at night without having to do one of those sleep studies where I am in a weird lab and have wires and things attached to me and someone is observing me on a camera. I don't like it! But, now that the doctor has planted the idea that I could DIE in my sleep I haven't had a decent nights sleep since. I understand the necessity and even though I don't want to do this, I sure want to go ahead and get it over with. Dr. K is the first doctor I have talked to that has referred to my age as impactful. The irony of it all is that a few weeks earlier my primary doctor told me I should have the surgery, and she referred to me as a 'young' woman. LOL! Of course, she is wrong, and Dr. K is correct, I am 53 years old and there isn't a whole lot young about that!
I feel bad for my husband...I have talked about this surgery all weekend and though he seems patient I don't think he wants me to talk non-stop about it. And he is very supportive of my decision, but I don't think he thinks I need it. He keeps telling me that he loves me the way I am. I know he does, and I love him for that, but, I wish I could say that I love me the way I am. I don't hate myself. I know I have worth and I know I am a good person. But, admittedly, I have sat on the sidelines of life for most of my life. When I was working on my paperwork, they wanted me to list the lowest weight I have been as an adult, and when that was. It was 1988. Seriously. I weighted 148 pounds and still thought I was fat because of my brain fat. In 1988 I was 26 years old. That is a really long way from 53.
If I am being absolutely honest, and I really should be, while I am pursuing this at this point in my life, I am going through this to better my health. But, another part is completely vain and centered around the way I look. I don't really care about the fashion side or the beauty side or wearing a swimsuit (heaven forbid) but, I want to be normal. I want to fit into a crowd and not stand out as the big person. I want to walk into ANY store and find something to wear. These are such simple things to want. These are the kinds of things others take for granted. I haven't ever been able to take these things for granted.
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