A word about body autonomy...

 I know i've been awful about updating this blog.  I don't even know if anyone is reading this, but I have written this from the perspective of what I would have wanted to read when I was contemplating all of this.

I had my surgery on February 2, 2022.  It's an easy date to remember:  2-2-22.

But just before my surgery, I had something happen that I'd like to share, that I didn't share before.  Some might feel it wasn't a big deal, but it was a huge deal to me, and I felt it was wrong.

If you've read up until now, you know how I've felt about the program I was on.  I have always felt like they were very controlling, and not in a helpful way.  My "dietician" seemed to thrive on the power she had over the group, and relished in the fact that she controlled our destinies by being able to deny us a surgery date whenever she felt we weren't being obedient enough to her.  This always rubbed me the wrong way.  She was very nice at first, but eventually, her narcissistic personality began creeping out.

A little background check on her showed me that she has never had a weight problem, and was on the track team in high school.  She was the epitome of the skinny blonde cheerleader who would have shoved me into a locker, given the opportunity.

Okay, so here's what happened:
It was the very last required dietician "class" that we were forced to attend.  I arrived on time, as usual, and waited for "class" to begin.  That's when she walked in and said, "We're gonig to take you guys into the next room for pictures and measurements".
I panicked.  NO WAY did I want this done.  They had my weight and my BMI, and I had no interest at all in having Barbie Skinnikins taking a tape measure to me, along with photographs, which I dreaded.
I raised my hand and asked if it was mandatory, and she acted like I was being petty and stupid.  "Well, we highly recommend it, as you can track your progress", she said.

"But, I don't want to track my progress that way", I said.  "I just want to lost some weight so I can have my hip replaced and get on with my life.  I don't care at all about what I look like or what my measurements are".
She replied, "Well, you don't HAVE to have your photo taken if you don't want to" and walked out.
When it became my turn, I said, "I don't want to do this".  I was speaking to her assistant, who said, "Well, let me check to see if you can skip it".
She came back and said, "Nicole said that you have to do it".
I replied, "The only way I'm doing this is if you threaten to cancel my surgery if I don't".
And guess what, little miss "Flexy Pants" pulled the rank card again and forced it.

I cried throughout the whole thing.  I felt my body autonomy was not respected at all.  This was COMPLETLEY unnecessary, and I told her, "There will never be numbers to compare these to".  I flatly refused the photo, because they'd already told me I could.
When the "class" started, I was so upset that I never looked up from the table.  I was humiliated and angry.  I HATED her and everyone involved for making me do something against my will that I felt was unessesary and degrading. I truly believe she enjoyed degrading me.

As she took the measurements, I said, through tears, "I NEVER want to see or know these numbers".  (I was wearing a bulky sweatshirt and refused to cooperate, making her do all the reaching, as I refused to hold the measuring tape.  hey, bitch, you want these numbers, YOU work for them!)
When I got into my car after the whole ordeal, I had a notification from "My Chart".  I opened it up, and there were all the numbers staring me in the face.  A final "Fuck you" from the control freak in charge of my every move.  This was her way of making sure I knew who was now in charge of my body.

I filed a complaint with the HR department of Community South.  They sided with me, but I don't think anything was ever done.  The lady read through some correspondence (on My Chart) between me and the "dietician" and agreed that she was prone to flex her power of surgury cancellation on any whim.
She's still employed there, and there is no second option for dietician.  She's the only one.

So I never went back. 

I had my surgery, and ghosted them.  And it's because of her.  I had no more trust for an organization that treated us like cattle, who had zero fucks to give over our own choices, and never even gave a thought as to why someone may not want to be manhandled for numbers that are only meant to make their program look good.

So, they do not get a success story from me, although I've been wildly successful, no thanks to them.  I read about other programs and what other people do that works (more on this later).  I developed a method that works for me, and it's NOTHING like what Barbie McSpanx had laid out.

My advice:  If you can, GO TO MEXICO and avoid the expensive, worthless bullshit and time wasting here with programs that feign concern for your well-being.  The folks in my support group who went to Mexico are every bit as successful, but without the stress or cost.

More later in a later blog about my success so far!