Day One

I don’t expect to post every single day about this journey but for now, maybe I will, to help me stay accountable. Then eventually perhaps it will become a weekly thing. I don’t know.


Well if you read the post “And so it begins…” you will see how I got here but today I’ll go into how I got specifically to this particular Day One and what it is Day One of.

At the end of 2017 my doctor put me on a waiting list to get a government funded gastric sleeve. I waited and waited and waited thinking this might be just what I need. I could hit the reset button. It would be like getting to start all over again! So I waited and waited. Eventually, I was sent a letter saying the PAH no longer offers this service would I like to stay on the waiting list. I said no, if I am not getting that service, why would I stay on the waiting list? The doctor later said I might have been sent to a different hospital so I should have stayed on the list. So at the end of 2018 I asked if she would get me back on the waiting list. I was accepted onto the waiting list! I was a category 2 and would be seen within 90 days. Exciting!

That didn’t mean I was going to get the surgery mind you, just that they would see me and assess me.

I got an appointment just over 30 days later. Fingers crossed! I was praying and hoping to be able to hit the reset button.


I am not unhealthy enough. My morbid obesity class 3 is not enough to warrant government funding on a gastric sleeve. I mean, I don’t even have diabetes and he said that you won’t even be considered if you don’t have diabetes. I went to walk out and he said we can offer other things. I had a feeling I knew what they were but I gave him the space to give me his spiel anyway. When I denied his offer of drugs, his whole attitude toward me changed. It was quite disgusting. He literally turned his whole body away from me where before he was sitting facing me and he could barely even turn his head the whole way toward me when he spoke. When I first walked out I was feeling pretty crushed. Yet again I’m not quite ‘sick’ enough to warrant being helped. It’s the same with my mental health, I’m high functioning enough to not qualify for any extra help just the bare minimum. Well, it’s the same thing with this, I’m not quite physically ‘sick’ enough to qualify for any extra help only the bear minimum.

After the feeling of crushing defeat wore off a little, I began to feel quite angry as my over-thinking brain went back over things. The message I ended up taking away from that day (last Thursday to be exact) is:


I am morbidly obese but I am not sick. I do not have diabetes, or a heart condition or liver problems, I do not have high blood pressure or high cholesterol. I’ve been saying for years, I am one of the healthiest morbidly obese people on the planet and that means I do not get any extra help. That means I am completely alone in my struggle. There is no help for me.

The other message I received by the doctor I saw, and then his boss lady who he brought in at the end because I think he went and spoke to her and told her I was one of those ‘difficult’ patients so mummy had to come in and berate me, is: I am lazy, I am unmotivated, undisciplined and if I just do (all the stuff I’ve been doing) I will lose weight, simply because they told me to do (all the stuff I’ve been doing). That hurt. It was like they were telling me I just wasn’t trying hard enough.

Despite all of this, the anger has fuelled me. The anger was necessary to motivate me to DAMN THE MEDICINE, SAVE THE SAMM (if you get the obscure reference you are my best friend!). So, fuck them, they won’t help me? I’m not trying hard enough? Ok, I’ll own that. So here I am. I am going to try my absolute fucking hardest and I WILL SUCCEED this time without them because fuck them. I don’t need them. I CAN and I WILL do this on my own. I gave up cigarettes cold turkey with no help, I gave up marijuana cold turkey with no help, if I could just give up food (without the turkey) then I could do this with no help. Unfortunately, our bodies technically need the foods to survive. I can’t go all no turkey on this addiction but I am going to see if I can find the part of me that gave up tobacco and marijuana and use it to succeed, alone, by myself because that is the theme of this lifetime for me. Doing it myself. I don’t need anyone else, I’ve made it to 43 years of age with very little assistance from anyone else in this world, I can do this alone too.

That’s where I am at right now.

They said OptiFast.

That is what I will do. OptiFast.

Here we go bitches.

It says the first few days are the hardest. *laugh* I am, as always, an anomaly. I know I’m not alone in my anomaly as I firmly believe there is always someone else in the world who experiences a thing the same way you do but I do think I am an anomaly, either that or they are just outright liars and they say the first few days are the hardest to … I don’t know, suck you in? When I gave up cigarettes they said the first few days were the hardest but then it got easier. Nope! Not for me. Those first few days were so easy. Hell, the first two weeks were easy! It was after that it began to get harder. I am great at starting things. I could totally be a professional starter. Starting shit is super easy. Sustaining shit, not so much. Follow through, not so much. Discipline to keep going, not so much. So today is easy. I expect the next few days to be easy. When I hit day 7 or 8 though, we’ll see how I’m feeling then. We’ll see what is coming up for me and how I can manage it.

It’s almost like the first few days my brain and body haven’t quite caught up to what I’m doing. Once they figure it out though, oh my, I expect all sorts of hell to break loose. I hope I can do it this time though. I really hope 2019 is the year for me. It would be really nice to only be overweight again instead of morbidly obese.

But that is where I will need this blog. I am going to write about the feels that come up when they come up. I’m going to write about breaking the addictions I have to food, namely sugary carby foods. Maybe, maybe if I give them the space to have a voice, then I can get through it rather than stuffing it all down with food like I normally do. Here’s hoping, right?

What do you think?