Why bariatric surgery is so necessary

Here I am, after some days' hiatus, spent on my back in bed thinking sadly that this is why bariatric surgery is really necessary for me.

My hip gave out. Not my back, which it usually is; the joint of my left hip. First stiffness and weakness, then soreness, then a couple days' serious pain, spent in bed barely able to hobble to the bathroom on two canes, struggling with this aging, molasses-speed laptop to cover my classes while knowing my pay will be docked for sick leave for all these days in spite of me working like crazy to take care of the job. And also knowing I'm spending my "boss cred" on this when I didn't even dare take a day for a doctor's appointment-- because I know shit like this happens to me so often. One day I'm fine, and then boom, I'm writhing in pain and stuck in bed for some indefinite period, because my body's skeletal structure just can't handle the load.

It was really miserable this time. I haven't been able to lie on my right side for any duration for some time, because the wide point of my pelvis hurts so much from the pressure. Well, this time it was the left hip I hurt, and lying on it was making it get worse, so I had to lie on that right side, as the lesser of two evils. I could just picture the tissue there turning into a bruise of ketchup-like consistency as it throbbed. And the left throbbed, too, because I pushed through the stiffness all day Tuesday and then rushed it Wednesday night to make it to my once-a-week class. Ice and ibuprofen finally helped, and I can only hope it was enough by Monday.

And yeah, I'm whining, sure-- but I wanted to whine about this one appropriately so I could come back and look at it later, after I get on the liquid diet, and also after I've had the surgery and there's no going back, so I can remind myself about the dozens of times I've been stuck here like this, miserable and not able to do anything but wait the inflammation out and hope that it won't stick around long, and hope that the next time isn't coming soon. But I know it is, and it will be my back, or my knee, or my hip... and I won't fit in wheelchairs, and nobody can lift me to help me, and my body just keeps crushing its infrastructure more and more.

Anyway, maybe when I look at this and remember this, the diet and the surgery stuff won't seem so bad. Because if I don't lose the weight, I know that this ceiling is going to get more and more familiar the longer this goes on, until I have no job and no insurance and no hope of ever losing this damn weight, and there's nobody who can or will help me when I'm down like this.