I had my 6-month surgiversary celebration this week (even though it was actually last week that I hit 6 months). So that meant some new jeans, a blood panel, a visit to the doctor, a new photo, and a new look for the blog (it's a library, see? cause we're 'rewriting' our lives, see? get it? scribblinginthemargin? I knew you did!).
So last week I went to Kaiser to get my 6-month bloodwork done in time to take the results to my bariatric surgeon this week. It takes at least 3 times to explain, yes--this is for another surgeon. No, he isn't with Kaiser. Yes, I still need the bloodwork done. Yes, I do enjoy hassling you. Etc., etc. When I finally had the bloodwork ordered in the system, I headed down to the lab to get my blood drawn. I remembered to take a list from my bariatric surgeon of the names of all the tests he wants taken, which he nicely typed up and put on his letterhead. So I show up to the phlebotomist with this paperwork, hand it to her, and she says, "Bariatric surgery. Oh that's great! Good for you! When is your surgery date?"
"Uh, January 21. Last January 21."
Now, to her credit, she didn't even miss a beat or realize the enormity of her faux pas. "Wow, that's fantastic! How much have you lost?" God bless her little phlebotomist heart, because her genuine enthusiasm kind of took my mind off the fact that I apparently still look like I need surgical intervention. On top of it, she was REALLY good at drawing blood--super-fast, no prodding, no second pokes (or thirds), and NO bruising. I told her she was so fast she should have holsters for her needles and that I was going to call her "Quick Draw."
So my blood work came back fine, although a little anemic. My triglycerides are down into the 200's (hey, they've been up in the 500's before) and although my cholesterol is higher than before, it's still within the normal range. I'm down 120 lbs since my pre-surgical appointment, and 125 lbs total. I just tried on a size 22 pair of jeans and they fit (although I opted for the "skinny" cut and had to go up to a 24 so that they would fit in the waist). My t-shirt size is almost to the 18/20 range. My feet are smaller. I can stand in line and the only impatience comes from the idiot in front of me who is still using checks, and not from the fact that my back hurts so badly that I might fall down on the floor and not be able to get up. I can cross my legs, and fasten my bra strap by reaching behind me.
So yeah, so far so good. Part of me is waiting for the other shoe to drop and start gaining weight back. But I've gotten better at telling that negative nelly to just shut the hell up 'cause I don't want to hear it.
Thank you to those that have been following my journey so far. Thank you for your support, and for listening to my rambling. I'm sure there will be a lot more of it to follow, and I thank you for continuing to read.