Certain Uncertainty
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I am certain I need this surgery. I am certain that I am going to get this surgery. I am certain I will be healthier in critical ways after this surgery. But I am not at all certain that I will be happier after this surgery.
My name is Dee, but if you call me Devichan I'll answer. I've used it as a nickname for years. I'm 41 years old, a mother of two (ages 16 and 7), poly, married, pagan, geeky, techie woman. I love my smile, my eyes, and my curves. I love to knit, play roleplaying games, watch football, and geek about Doctor Who (sometimes all at the same time!) I'm owned by three cats (Echo, a tuxedo female, and tortoiseshell littermates River and Kaylee), all of whom are adopted from rescues. We're looking into getting a dog. I live in the Twin Cities of Minnesota and I love it here. I've also lived in Ohio, North Carolina, Indiana, Michigan, and California. My family's idea of a vacation is a yearly trip to Dragon*Con in Atlanta. My daughters are the lights of my life... one snarky, gothy, creative, musical, and self-described (accurately) as "a teenager with a lick of sense" and the other bouncy, happy, colorful, who is a fan of both My Little Pony and the Avengers and who thinks nothing of running around the house in a pink tutu and crown wearing a batman mask, Wonder Woman arm bracers, and carrying a sword and shield.
I can't remember when people weren't talking about me in terms of my weight. food restrictions at age 6. "You have such a pretty face!" at seven. "I swore I'd never buy you plus sizes, but you've forced me to!" at eight. Weight Watchers at nine. If I could go back to 14-year old me, wearing a size 14, I would tell her everyone was wrong. Looking at pictures of the time, I was softly, roundly, genuinely pretty.
College came and with it an extra hundred pounds - body by Mountain Dew. (In the early 90s no one was talking to teenagers about how bad soft drinks were; saccharine was still the Devil In powder Form.) I had a two three-liter of Mountain Dew PER DAY habit at one point because of serious caffeine addiction. I broke it at age 23, but the damage was done. I stayed at 240 through most of the next decade, including after the birth of my first child.
Then I hurt first one knee, and then the other after the birth of my second child. Another 40 pounds arrived because I dieted and exercise hurt. Arthritis set in, I dieted some more as I was told, and with that even more pounds. Now, at 41, I weigh between 295-305 depending on stress levels. I am twice the size I was when everyone told me I was too fat to ever fall in love, get married, and have children.
I am OK with my fat. It's a part of me. I don't use it as a shield between me and the world, because I don't hide from the world. I am an extrovert and make friends easily. I haven't been without a partner since the age of 17, and between 15 and 17 I had a boyfriend or girlfriend for all but three months. I don't have diabetes, don't have heart trouble, don't have thyroid issues, don't have respiratory issues.
And yet.
My knees ache, especially in the winter. My mobility is increasingly compromised. I love to do yoga, but the pain in my knees is preventative. I don't THINK I have sleep apnea, but on 6-FEB-2013 I will be finding out the results of a sleep study.
I hurt. And I'm tired of hurting. I will soon need a cane to take the bus and light rail. Stairs are a problem - for the pain, not the breathlessness. I've been told I'm 15 years away from eligibility for a knee replacement. This is the only option doctors want to discuss. I don't dare diet again. I can't afford another 20 pounds.
On the 18th, I have my first consult. I do not want to look like a melting ice cream cone, and after decades of fat I almost certainly will. I will miss my curves.
And yet. I am certain of one thing: I hurt, and this is the only option I am being offered that will help.