Holy Crapoli!

Holy crapoli!

So far I've gotten 3 EOB's from Anthem for my April 7th port repair surgery.
$34,628.70 - hospital outpatient surgery (insurance paid $3689.86; no co-pay for me)
$1,260.00 - not sure - think it's anesthesiologist (rejected by insurance because they need more info)
$5834.72 - surgeon's fee (insurance rejected $5,000 of it, I think because of a billing error, and paid $212.24)

That's a total of $41,723.42!

Like I said, holy crapoli!

Back on the bandwagon

After almost a year of no fill or not enough fill, I thought everything would be better after my port repair surgery on April 7th, but bad weather caused flooding that closed all the roads between here and Memphis, so I had to delay my follow-up appt. with my surgeon for 2 weeks. Good things are worth waiting for, right?

This Monday I saw Dr. Weaver, who said my incision looks good, my weight looks good (somehow I had managed to lose a pound since the port repair), I look good, and was I ready for a fill? Yes, ma'am! So I now have 2.1 cc in my band, and am feeling the difference already - early satiety, prolonged satiety, no negative symptoms, just my band doing what it's supposed to do. I feel like I have a new lease on life!

Making progress

My port incision looks much better now (though it's very itchy - I think I may be allergic to the surgical adhesive). The site is still swollen, as you can see in this photo. The fine red line below the incision is from my scratching - bad girl, Jean!

Port repair - day 4

A lot of the swelling has gone down, but I look like I've been beaten with a baseball bat. I'm 99.99% sure I didn't look like this after my original band surgery. I think I would've remembered that.
I guess I have less adipose (fatty) tissue to cushion the blows now, and clearly Dr. Weaver encountered a struggle when trying to extricate my port from its tilted position and fight it into the correct and obedient position. And as we say in the south, she's just a tiny little thang!

Survived my port repair

I survived my port repair surgery. My belly is not a pretty sight at the moment...not just because of the incision but because it's grotesquely distended, especially on the right side (port side). I only feel pain at the incision site when I exert myself physically (rolling over in bed, for example), but the pain from the intestinal gas is continuous. I have 2 GasX strips left and a whole bottle of Percocet. I'll have see if I can persuade my husband to do a rescue run to Walgreens tomorrow for more GasX.

The dogs have been pretty good about not jumping on me, but this afternoon Jinx greeted me happily and put his front paws right on top of my incision. That was not a good moment.

I'm so glad it's done! I go back to see my surgeon again in a month. Let's all keep our fingers crossed that I can get a fill then.

Good news about my AGB book!

Last fall, I gave my band book manuscript to a great bariatric surgeon to read, correct, edit, and comment on. Of course, he had a very full schedule already, so it's taken some time for him and one of his staff members to get through the manuscript. But last week we had a telephone consult in which he gave me answers to some questions, a few clarifications, and a big thumbs up to the book. He promised to write a foreword for the book, and said, "It's a very nice piece of work."

I'm so flattered by his endorsement, I can hardly contain myself. I'm working on the final revisions now, then will start work on the index (tedious but necessary) and hope to publish the book by May 2010. Hurray!

The magic of exercise

My day started off badly this morning. I didn't sleep well last night (due to fibromyalgia pain and a bad cold), and when I don't sleep well, I cannot handle even the tiniest task or challenge. For some reason I felt fat today, even though I weighed 1.4 lbs less this morning than I did yesterday morning. Somehow my inner vision of Fat Jean got projected into my mirror (I sure would like to know how to do that kind of magic). Our paper-loving dog stole my "to do" list off the kitchen table (we're wondering if Jinx has a vitamin/mineral deficiency, or some kind of weird eating disorder) and ate it. I screamed at him and caused our neurotic dog Meg to do her panicked-pee-on-the-rug thing at the sound of Psycho Grammy's voice. When I got dressed, I put my shirt on backwards (further reinforcing the poor self-image). My socks (too big, from fat days, but too good to throw out) kept getting wadded up inside my sneakers. I got out to my car only to realize I'd left my water bottle sitting on the kitchen table (just begging for attention from our plastic-loving dog, Berry). As I drove to the fitness studio, I slowed down for a 30 mph zone where I have twice been caught in speed traps (almost lost my license) and created a parade of angry motorists behind me. And so on, and so on.

None of those were disasters of cosmic proportion, but they felt that way. Until about 5 minutes into my body toning class. I guess the endorphins started firing then, because I found myself smiling even through the hardest moves. When I walked out the door after class, I was no longer Psycho Grammy. I'm not saying I was (or ever will be) completely sane, but I was much, much better than I had been when I fell out of bed this morning. All thanks to the magic of exercise.

If I could put that magic in a bottle and sell it, I'd be a multimillionaire. Unfortunately, the only way you can obtain it is to do it yourself.