Category: Health

Plastic Surgery?

Posted on | by cursingcats.com | 3 Comments on Plastic Surgery?

So I’m (maybe?) starting a plastic surgery journey! This is my first post. Notice the new category 🙂

So I’ve wanted plastic surgery for a long time. I’ve been fat all my life. I was almost 400lbs when I went to college. I had gastric bypass surgery in 2005 and wanted surgery to remove excess skin then, but had no way to afford it. Over the years I gained most of the weight back — up to 320lbs. Then, 3 years ago, I went keto and lost most of it again. I’m currently a happy 234 (hoping to get back down to 220). I fit in a womens XL which is easy to find and buy anywhere and I’m a little smaller than when I met Mr C. So win! I know I’m still medically considered obese, but im a good obese. And compared to 400 — I’ll take it!

So I still want skin surgery. My arms are a disaster and my stomach is a lumpy mess.

It’s been stated that I would have this surgery but a time frame was never put on it. One of my friends even jokes about the cake we’re going to have at my boob coming out party! And I joke all the time about “when I get my boobs.” Recently, I was asked what I’m waiting for by my husband. And well, I didn’t know it was an option. We’re so focused on saving money and, well, saving money — that it didn’t occur to me I could do it before we met a few more goals. Then bro-in-law also asked what I was waiting for. So… I booked a consultation.

I asked for recommendations on some weight loss forums and reddit. The main guy everyone recommended only does people below 185lbs. Well, that’s not happening. Sure I could work my ass off (literally) to get to that, but what’s the point if I can’t maintain that weight? I want to look good at this weight.

So Mr C and I are seeing our second choice surgeon in August! I know that sounds so far away, but I wouldn’t have the surgery while the pools open anyway. I wouldn’t be able to maintain the pool, one. And two, I wouldn’t be able to use the pool. Also, this lines up with the job switch coming up in October — so maybe this is Gods timing working out for me!

I want to have 3 surgeries (hopefully combining at least two): Arms, stomach, boobs. My stomach and my arms bother me the most, by far. But I’m not sure they can combine those two. I suspect the way we will go is a “mommy makeover” first – which is torso (stomach and boobs) followed by a separate arm surgery. Not sure they can do all three at once. Highly doubtful.

I showed Mr C the before and after shots on the surgeons page and we were both blown away. So I’m super excited. And it feels really good to have something on the horizon that I’m super excited about too. So many possibilities! Finally getting that 3/4 sleeve tattoo! Our 10 year anniversary pictures in my old wedding dress, adjusted for a much smaller me with bigger boobs! All the fantastic sleeveless 50s dresses! I’m very excited.

Insurance is such a fucking scam.

Posted on | by cursingcats.com | 2 Comments on Insurance is such a fucking scam.

Doctor to Pharmacy: “This patient need this medication.”

Pharmacy to Insurance: “This patient needs this medication.”

Insurance to Pharmacy: “Do they though?”

Pharmacy to Doctor: “Insurance wants to know if they really need this medication.”

Doctor to Pharmacy: “Did I stutter?”

Pharmacy to Insurance: “Yes.”

Insurance to Pharmacy: “Fine, Whatever.”

Pharmacy to Patient: “Your medication is ready.”

Why the fuck does this process exist? I’ve never EVER had a doctor change their mind and go “OK, they don’t really need it.” And I take a shit ton of medications. It’s just a way for insurance to stall paying what they’re supposed to pay. I’m so mad!

We’re currently in pre-lawsuit with insurance about an accident I had in 2019 (yes, thats 2 years ago) because they don’t want to pay what they SAID THEY WOULD PAY. We’re not even to the lawsuit part yet because insurance is dragging every single step out as long as possible. And now I’m stuck in this prior medical authorization needed loop with the pharmacy over a medication.

Isn’t the whole doctors prescription thing ITSELF the prior authorization? Like not everyone can or should take these medications so you need a prescription. It’s the fucking authorization. I could see if, maybe, a nurse practitioner wrote the prescription and you want a more authoritative position — but not the doctor themselves. It’s so stupid!

Since the aforementioned accident, I’ve suffered from headaches pretty badly. Physical therapy helped a ton and I’m also on a migraine shot once a month (which also required prior authorization when it was prescribed — oh and would have cost me 1k out of pocket but $5 for insurance — but thats ANOTHER post all together). This shot works great — but not for the whole month. Towards the end of the month I start getting daily headaches again as the shot wears off. This leads to me taking a shit ton of Excedrin Migraine.

Well, apparently thats really bad for your kidneys. So my NEUROLOGIST prescribed another medication I can take as needed or every other day towards the end of the month. It’s apparently the same medication thats in the shot and I can use the pills as a booster. He says he sees patients with my problem all the time. The shots great but it doesn’t last. So this way you can boost it and get through to the next shot. This medication has next to no side effects (maybe some nausea — but by the time you need the pill, you’re probably already nauseous). Where as over-the-counter pain killers will eventually kill off my kidneys.

Well he prescribed it a week ago! I got back to his office the NEXT DAY when I was told it needed prior authorization and I still don’t have the damn pills. My head is killing me! Why is insurance such a fucking scam? I hate it. This prior authorization process requires no less than SEVEN calls that don’t involve me at all. It’s just a lot of bureaucracy to postpone or try to avoid paying.

I’m going to go slam my Dammit doll on the counter while I toss back some Excedrin Migraine.

Codependents Anonymous

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I’m going to attended a virtual (zoom) CODA meeting tonight.  That’s Codependents Anonymous.  So this started as me wanting to help a friend attend CODA.  You know, I’d be her support on the way to her support group (Opus and Bill reference, anyone?  Anyone? Eh?).  However, it has turned into, no, Mrs C needs some CODA herself.  I went codependent triangle on Mr C last week and I didn’t even realize that’s what it was.  R > V > P.  Rescuer > Victim > Persecutor > and round and round we go. 

I decided he needed a new bathing suit (because he does).  So I bought him one (which looked better than his) – so yay, I’m a “rescuer.”  Note he never ASKED for a bathing suit nor did he want one ‘cause Mr C is cheap.  I have rescued him and saved him from himself by buying it for him.  Yay me!  But Mr C doesn’t want bathing suit.  Bathing suit is waste of money and he doesn’t even like it.  He’ll never wear it.  Why’s he being an asshole about this? Oh look, I’m the “victim” now.  I bought you a gift, you fucker – and it looks better than your old one, why won’t you just LISTEN TO ME? And now I’m the “persecutor.”  This is how we codependents live our lives.  It’s messed up.  How is it a triangle, you ask?  Well I’m pretty sure later I took him a peace offering of food because I felt like we had a big fight (we didn’t) so back to “rescuer,” baby!  Then, if I was still a codependent mess, I’d have gotten mad that he never does such things for me “victim” and be salty about it “persecutor” – it’s called mental illness, yall. 

I’m sorry, Mr C.  I still think you need a new suit FWIW.  However, there was no winning that situation ‘cause my crazy was already rearing its head.  There was no way for you to politely decline the bathing suit.  I’m sorry.   That was my bad 100%. I realize where I was wrong and that it’s my fault.

Also, I’m trying to forge new relationships with my family since mom died.  She kept us all connected.  Now I have to keep myself connected, because I’m the one who lives out of town.  So I have to make these connections that weren’t there.  I have to call them.  I have to make small talk.  I have to be involved.  And my family is a bunch of codependent crazies (except for my brother).  Like it’s a freaking field of land mines down there.  It’s a clusterfuck.  So I could use a little psychological support to form healthy relationships with good boundaries.  It’s good timing. 

But what if it’s just my codependency that’s making me want to help her?  I thought/think it’s a God thing.  I had written this friend out of my life.  She’s a taker.  But then Mr C had reason to have her drop by.  All the sudden she’s talking about therapy.  So later I feel like I should reach out via text and tell her about the wonder of support groups and how happy I am for her that she’s seeking help.  Now we’re going to CODA together tonight.  Did God make this happen or did my need to rescue people make this happen?  Is that just my self doubt trying to sabotage a God thing?  HOLY SHIT it’s a whole mind fuck. 

Anyway, so that’s happening.

And a suitcase full of black

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Man, life does not take a break when your world stops. It doesn’t stop. It feels like it should stop. My mom died, the funeral is Monday, everyone be respectful. But no. Your sisters dog still tears and ACL and requires surgery. Your shower still gets a leak that requires a plumber. Work is still a shit show. The escape plan for May is getting pushed back to October. Your husband is still having the worst week of his career. And you’re packing a suitcase full of black clothes.

A suitcase full of black. I’m still oddly numb and practical about everything. I had to make sure my husband had appropriate clothes which required clothes shopping. I had to get new black pants for us both. So this afternoon we’re driving down to stay with the family tonight.

My over stressed husband, who’s been in quarantine for nearly a year, is being forced to stay with other bubbles. However, it’s unavoidable. He knows this. I do worry about all of these bubbles crashing for the funeral. Ugh. When are we getting a damn vaccine rolled out for all of us? I can only pray there’s no virus spreading going on with the funeral. We won’t be having visitation at the funeral but we’re having a big lunch after. Not remotely my decision. But how can I say no? It’s moms funeral. The family wants to do lunch after which I thought was nice. But now a lot of people are coming to lunch. I’m a bit worried. I’ve already bowed out my husband but I feel obligated to go. Mom just died of Covid and we’re having a party. Blarg.

Well, wish us luck. Emotional and health-wise. Here we go.

Vestibular Physical Therapy

Posted on | by cursingcats.com | 3 Comments on Vestibular Physical Therapy

I went to Physical Therapy today for my vestibular system.  (Short Summary –> car wreck -> concussion -> post concussion syndrome -> get very sick when I drive too long especially at night).  So most of the tests I passed pretty easily.  My central eye focus is at 10cm when it should be at 3, so we can work on that.  But man, she tested my balance and fuck that. 

Most of the balance tests I passed.  Except that I’m terrible at balancing on one leg.  I’m not a yoga person, okay? But then she had me stand on this squishy wedge and close my eyes and stand there for 30 seconds.  Yeah, no.  I have terrible balance.  This thing is squishing all over the place, I can’t do this.  Like every time I tried I had to grab the bars.  This is not a skill I need as an engineer, can we just ignore this?  I don’t give a shit about my balance. 

So then the part we do give a shit about.  Lets get your heart rate up to trigger your symptoms of nausea and vertigo to see where we’re at.  Let me rephrase that for those in the back: Get on the exercise bike and we’ll just keep increasing the intensity until you feel like you’re gonna puke.  Got that?  Go. 

Yall, I didn’t know I was gonna get all sweaty and out of breath first thing this morning before work.  Awesome.  We went until I was like “yeah I’m good.”  But then problem was we only got to a twinge of a headache.  No nausea.  Which I kinda didn’t think would happen considering I bike to the grocery store without getting nausea.  But yeah, no dice.  So that means heart rate isn’t a good variable to hang our hat on “about to barf.”  Which means my practices just have to go till I feel ill.  Like last time.  I had been promised we wouldn’t have to get to the ill feeling part.  But without a good gauge of when im about to feel ill, well, you gotta go all the way. 

I’m gonna be honest, I’m not 100% sold on committing to doing this again.  I’m seeing her again next week, but I just don’t feel like they can really help me with driving at night.  If we can’t duplicate my symptoms in the office, then how can we help them?

Why can’t I just wear anti-nausea patches all the time?

I wanted to crawl in a hole and die. Then the check engine light came on.

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I has been a week. Let me tell ya. Monday I was so anxious and overwhelmed that I skipped work. I had watched 90 Day Fiance which was me and moms show. We both call each other to remind each other it is coming on and then talk about how crazy everyone is. And Natalie be CRAZY. Mom will never see how crazy she is and we cant talk about it. Who’s watching our show with me now? Just me and the cat, I guess. And he doesn’t care how crazy Natalie is, which she really is.

I’ve been hyper focused on the cat as a bit of a break from the far heavier death of mom. So of course I’m upset that even with all the changes, he’s still only got a life expectancy of 1 – 2 years. I assume that includes a lot of decline towards the end as well. So it’s difficult. I just gave him his fluids via stabby needle an hour or so ago. He’s resting in his bed next to me. With a big lump of fluid on his side. Poor guy.

Also, I’m anxious about starting vestibular physical therapy. With not having to drive much thanks to Covid, I had kinda of convinced myself I was all better. This is fine. Ya know? And acknowledging that I still get really sick driving is a hard pill to swallow. I certainly don’t want to go back to last January when I had to do my physical therapy exercises twice a day and got nausea and vertigo every time. It was miserable. So I don’t wanna. That’s basically what it boils down to. I don’t wanna.

Work’s been… bad, I guess? Honestly, I haven’t been working. I’ve been just getting though my days. I’m sorry, I’m just trying to not break down, yall. Like I said, Monday I didn’t even make it in to work. So my not-very-important task has been halted half done. But this is the last week of the sprint so my favorite coworker was assigned to help me with it. Of course DeBitch made a snarky asshole remark. DeBitch was one of the main reasons I didn’t go in Monday. I just didn’t want to deal with that shit. And of course I feel terrible.

It’s a team carry. I’m the teammate down and my team is carrying me over the finish line. It’s embarrassing and …well… embarrassing. I’m ashamed of myself. But then I also need the carry. So I’m grateful but also want to crawl up in a hole and die. Mostly the latter.

So I’ve got a lot going on that’s stressing me out. A lot. And then the check engine light in my car comes on yesterday on the way to work. God dammit, are you serious? So I have a scanner to read the codes — it’s some faulty circuit in the temperature sensor. But still, kick me when I’m down, will ya?

I just want to crawl up in a hole and die. Or to retire and crawl up on the couch and never leave the house again. That’s fine too.

Physical Therapy

Posted on | by cursingcats.com | 1 Comment on Physical Therapy

So physical therapy on my neck for headaches and whiplash issues is wrapping up (3 more appointments).  Killing the prescription off with some dry needling.  Kinda feeling it in my upper back after this one.  The cat can’t complain when I give him his fluids later tonight.  Actually, yes he can.  I feel bad about it.  

I’m feeling a bit crummy (physically) after last night.  I drove across town in the dark.  So I got super nauseous because my vestibular system is still screwy.  So now they want to work on that.  UGH.  I’m dreading it.  I said okay, because it’d be nice to be able to drive further than across town.  However, last time I did vestibular therapy I was just sick with it all the time.  But they swear the point is to monitor heart rate and stay BELOW that threshold.  Also it’s been a year so I’m in a better place (physically).  And this physical therapy place is way better than the last one.  Right?  Plus I got to learn the Witcher lyrics while I did my eye exercises.  Ugh.

I wish it was something you could just massage and poke needles in to fix.   I much prefer the needles. But man, I’m sore as I type this.  I think it’s because I keep falling into a slouch and stretching the muscles they just electrified.  That’s one way to encourage sitting up straight, I guess.  If only they’d let me wear those motion sickness patches 24/7 I wouldn’t NEED physical therapy.  

You hit your head in the wrong way and bam, every things jacked up.   Mr C, I might need a ride when they do this weird maneuver to “reset” your vestibular system.  I’m told I won’t feel good.