Pre-Op Bariatric Cult

My first pre-op fatty therapy group was not what I expected. What I expected was a bunch of fatties being forced to share their feelings about their fat and the surgery; instead it was an informative session about the surgery. One thing I do not understand is why they don’t tell people everything upfront, no matter how many questions you ask you will get a different answer or the generic “Well it is different for everyone.” bullshit. Are they just that desperate for people to get this surgery?

When I entered to room the other pre-op fatties were all happy to be there and excited to learn. It was like a classroom full of young hopefuls and me. I did not want to engage with anyone, share about anything let alone listen to nonsense. I was lucky; it was an informative session on the same stuff they have been telling us our whole lives: no soda, no rice, no sweets, eat low fat, portion control. Can you feel the massive eye roll? The only important thing I did learn is when they remove the piece of your stomach and stitch up the new smaller section, the stitches do not dissolve, they are permanent. The sutures will be holding your stomach together for the rest of your life, nothing like getting your head cracked open and having stitches bond the hole then dissolve. At my next appointment I will inquire if that means you are at risk of a leak or bursting your stitches for the rest of your life. With certain discomfort I am going to assume the answer is yes. Just another scary bit of information they lacked to mention.

The bariatric clinical team reminds me of a book I once read called Geek Love by Katherine Dunn. Without giving too much away (because everyone should really read this book) it is the story of a family of freaks who run a traveling sideshow circus. Eventually one of the children, Arturo –who has stumps that look like fins where his arms and legs should be—develops a cult leader mentality. Arturo’s followers believe they can find happiness and inner peace by being like him. The Arturans have body parts amputated until they are nothing but a stump and through that they find Peace, Isolation and Purity (PIP) the mantra of Arturism. Every time I am at Bellevue and I see a post op patient talking about how great their life is now and how truly miserable they were before, I feel like I am getting sucked into a Kool-Aid warp. Especially now that I am in the introductory portion of bariatric cult member status, they are slowly revealing things that would have initially made me say no to this surgery but now they have me on this Kool-Aid fence where fat equals misery and death and weight loss equals a bright shiny new start.  I am being brainwashed. My stomach won’t listen but my head will. Only one can win.

One of the larger influences on getting this surgery and the struggle between my brain and my stomach are doctors, not because what they say is positive, informative or even encouraging but because the majority of them cannot see past the fat. If I go in for an annual Pap Smear they want to discuss my weight and not my vagina. Every time I go to the doctor for a sinus infection they want to tell me how concerned they are about my weight, do they care that I am oozing mucus and there is booger crust forming around my eyes because it cannot escape my nose? NO. Because I am fat I cannot get the real medical attention I need. If I have pink eye, the flu, a yeast infection, seasonal allergies, had a house fall on me the response from a doctor is usually, “Can we talk about your weight?” If there is any truth in there being no such thing as a healthy over weight person, it is because they cannot get the medical attention they deserve.

The more I talk about this the angrier I get so I am going to wrap up. I will be back next week after my pre-op support group and personal pre-op therapy appointment. The fatty therapist suggested my partner come to these two appointments with me so he can also learn more about the “changes” I will be going through. Another massive eye roll.