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Yesterday a woman from church gave me a ride out to my vehicle so I could collect my things. In my mind I had counted on having my car for years to come. The accident was worse than I had originally thought, I was in a state of shock after the accident so I didn't see fully take in the damage that was done. I am fortunate to be alive and relatively uninjured despite the wonky left ankle. It had the potential to be a terrible day, but thanks to a combination of supportive people it ended up being a day that I will remember for its relaxing and rewarding ending. The plan was to go to therapy and then get the things from my car, but when my ride showed up early we went to clean out my car before my therapy appointment.

It was a shock to hear my therapist say that I don't present as bipolar to her. The psychiatrist who diagnosed me has a history of seeing it in a vast majority of his patients. Whether that's because he's seeing something others aren't, or because many conditions travel together, or because he may have made a mistake, I don't really know. The facts are: I have failed several antidepressants and two bipolar meds that should have worked. My therapist thinks I have ADD and PTSD, bipolar moods are long lasting, ADD mood shifts are much more frequent and situation dependent. I've never really had a long major depressive episode that was so bad I couldn't get out of bed. I was definitely depressed, but not to the extent that others with either bipolar or unipolar depression have been.

I have some books on ADD that I've going to reread. My therapist wants me to try some ADD meds to see if those will help. She said I will know right away. Focus has always been a problem of mine, I fit most of the criteria that would put me on the ADD spectrum, some of these disorders travel together, it's both fascinating and frustrating to learn more and hear this kind of thing. I would be eternally grateful if the diagnosis is ADD instead of bipolar. The meds do some terrible things to my mind and body. I feel for people who are tasked with identifying who has what in the mental health world as these disorders and illnesses aren't as clean cut as a broken leg or heart problem. Must be a difficult field to work in although I suspect the rewards are there too for those who stick with it.

Last night I called my mechanic's son to see how he was doing. We ended up talking for more than an hour about a variety of things. He's very much the black sheep of his family with interests in music, art, poetry, and cartoons. He's wonderfully empathetic, creative, and has a wide range of skills that make him absolutely fabulous at customer service. His brother is working behind the counter at a job he used to have, I don't know why his dad isn't giving him his old job back, but suspect it's for the best as it can be difficult working for family. My other call last night was my mom. She gave me credit for handling the situation as well as I have which was a shock to hear coming from her. I can't tell if she's changed, I have, or we've both made strides.

I wrote a thank you note to the owner of the coffee shop where I applied for a job. I called her at a super busy time of her day which was not very smart, but probably not a relationship killer. My therapist had a lot of really good ideas for the venture, the job would be a great fit from her perspective, and from mine as well. It combines the things I enjoy and am good at without being too far away or sticking me behind a desk. There's appreciation for new ideas and event planning would tap into my creative side. I'm optimistic even though I haven't heard back from the owner who I realize has a lot pulling her in various directions. 

During therapy we talked about the guy I'm seeing, the future, and current logistics. I'm in Wisconsin and will be until my girls are 18. He's in Colorado and travels for several weeks out of the month. He doesn't own a car and now I don't either. This is as much relationship as I can handle right now even though it would be fun to get dressed up and go out on a real date. He encourages and supports me. Last night he sent me a thing asking if I would share what made my day so good when I had a chance. I've sent him big long things in the past. I think this one was more organized and well rounded.

I told him I loved him, but I also felt as if I was falling in love with him which was a distinction I hadn't made earlier. No idea how he'll react to that, might scare him away, but I feel good for having said it. Going to continue making calls today, I feel confident that I have skills people want and the ability to solve problems of my own regardless of who is responsible or created them. Today is a great day to be me. I feel like I can manage my world which is a tremendous boost and miles away from where I've been in the past. Here's to more going forward. 

First of all, let me say that numerous noders have come forward privately to wish me luck, offer support, and offer their own experiences with weight loss procedures, both surgical and not. You folks are all heroes, and I am incredibly grateful - your stories are making this so much easier, and letting me hope rather than just sit here a ball of nerves. Thank you all, and you know who you are.

Today was medical paperwork day. Started at 9am at the other end of Manhattan getting my CPAP compliance visit done so that the sleep doctor would give me my compliance letter for the FAA medical examiner. Then at noon, I reported to NYU Langone medical center for the 1-week-prior clearance visit for my surgery.

It was mostly paperwork. There was also a chest X-ray and blood work (ugh). I hate blood draws because I have 'terrible veins' according to multiple phlebotomists (if I spelt that correctly). They're deep and hard to find, and apparently I have a strong physiological reaction so when you do get them with the needle, my blood pressure drops making flow difficult. Sometimes they have to stick me three to five times, and when that happens, I tend to go into syncope around half of those sessions.

This time that didn't happen; I warned them, and two of the nurses came in an consulted and checked both arms and both hands before settling on a vein in my right arm. That stick didn't take (sigh) but the next try, in the back of my right hand, did, so they were way ahead of the game.

While there, I consented to take part in a double-blind medical study which is studying the effects of low-dose ketamine on bariatric surgery patients, to determine if it in fact lowers the requirement for pain medication. Woohoo! K-hole city! Now I get to explain to the FAA, if it shows up on a drug test, that I was in a drug trial, hehehe.

Home again. Picked up some quick groceries (Nestle's version of the low-carb ice pop, to try - turns out they're nicer than the popsicles, but I suspect some weaseling on the nutrition, this tastes like fruit juice not sweetener). Also picked up 48 Maggi chicken bouillon cubes and another can of Bustelo coffee. You know, the basics.

Weight: 318.1 (not 118.1 as originally posted because maybe I was dreaming I'd had a hemicorporectomy)

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