The Former Traveling Spotlight

The tales of a "30" something gay former stand-up comic living in NYC who is searching for his soul mate or soul...which ever comes first.

Wednesday, October 04, 2006

Mmmmm...Soup!

Yesterday evening was my first appointment with the doctor since the surgery, which means going to the office. I entered the door and checked in, where the receptionist quickly announced that they had to take my picture. Backing me against the wall, she snapped my picture while the waiting room full of people applauded. She announced that the picture is placed onto the "Wall of Success!" This is the picture filled wall of gastric bypass patients who have lost a significant amount of weight over the year and are there for the 1 year checkup. I was just going to let it go, by the nurse in charge told her to remove my photo, since I'm not a bypass patient. The other patients stared at me like an enemy, not welcome since I didn't share their problems.

Part of my thought "Fuck em'! I got problems of my own!" But another part of me felt bad. This surgeon's practice is 99% weight loss surgery and I don't fit in. The office staff is conditioned to assume every patient is a weight loss patient, and have insisted I complete certain procedures before meeting with the surgeon (something they retract when I explain I'm not a weight loss surgery candidate). This treatment makes me almost want to claim weight loss surgery just to "fit in".

Thankfully I was taken into the back room where the doctor did an examination. He removed my drainage tube and checked my wounds, then sent me to the x-ray department to get a "quick video esophagram". Why doctor's ever say any type of test is "quick" is beyond me. Two hours later I was marched back into the office to see the doctor.

I hate Groundhog day. Mainly because I can never remember if the animal is supposed to see his shadow or not, but in the end, it always seems we are supposed to have 6 more weeks of winter. The doctor in this case saw his shadow and issued his judgment. He's not happy with the rate I'm healing, so I'm not allowed any solid foods for the next 12 weeks. 12 freaking weeks!!!! This means I won't able to eat anything besides pureed soups until Christmas day. Thanksgiving dinner is going to consist of chicken broth and a side of juice.

FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!

Ok...That's out of my system. Anyone have a good recipe for soup?

Patrick - 3:17 PM -

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