Sweet Relief and unnecessary blow jobs

After quite a few calls I was finally able to get in for an unfill today.  Before I even got in there I’m talking to the nurse and she’s asking me how it’s been and what I’ve been eating and I tell her how last night after only managing to get in 4oz of my patent pending chicken salad paste throughout the entire day, I had some ice cream at night.  (At the time I was thinking… man I need some calories in me or I’m going to not be able to do a damn thing tomorrow – as I have very recent experience with too many days in a row with not enough calories).  The point to my story to the nurse was – I threw up the ice cream.  Now seriously folks – you know you’re tight when you can’t even eat fucking ice cream.  It didn’t even have any kind of chunks in it.  Do you know what this woman had the gall to say to me???  “Now, Read, what are you doing eating ice cream?”

Oh for fuck’s sake!!  What?  Now that I have a band I can’t eat ice cream?? And of course this is after she’s just recorded a 7lb loss since the last time I was in the office.  I calmly explained about the calories and whatnot and she was somewhat appeased. 

When Dr. Do-little finally came in he seemed completely perplexed at my need as he said – watching the fluid go down my band it was clear I had plenty of room for more fluid, thus his initial intention to give me 1.5cc, though I had talked him down to only .5cc.  Luckily I had had sufficient time to build up a solid body of evidence that I indeed had done what I should have done and I was still, despite his superior knowledge of how the band works inside my body, too tight. 

I told him I was hopeful he’d do what he did last time and take out half of what he’d put in.  He got me up on the bed thingy and I asked him how much he was going to take out, a quarter of a cc??  And he said – well, I can only really take out a half a cc because any less…. (and he trailed off.)  I said – would you try to take out only a quarter???  (looking hopeful and willing to give him a blow job at the same time).  He said he’d try.

I didn’t say another word – completely confident that what he’d not said was that anything less than a half a cc was stupid.  I figured if I had that conversation with him before he took any out, there was no way he’d do less than the half a cc.  He said he took out a little more than a quarter of a cc (I’m guessing my willing to give a blow job look totally worked).

So then I asked him.. So, you only work in increments of a half a cc?  Yeah, really to do anything smaller than that has absolutely no effect.  OMG – that makes no sense on so very many different levels I didn’t even have a response.  Well finally I said – I have quite a few successfully banded friends (that would be all of  you guys) who would strongly disagree.  He scoffed.  He really did.  An actual scoff.  He said a .1cc adjustment on a large volume, low resistance band such as I had would make no actual difference.  It’s impossible.  The only difference it could make would be in your head.  I said – don’t discount the difference in your head, ever heard of a placebo?  So to all you out there who have said that a .1, .2, .3, or .4cc adjustment has been just the trick - clearly you are insane.  You don't know your body at all and it's all just been in your head.  Aren't you glad you know that now?  Phew!

But seriously people.  Who decided 5cc was the smallest amount that would work (no I don’t for a second think he’s right – this is some of the fruitless conversation I had with him in my head)  And what was the tipping point.  Um .1cc, nope that didn’t do a thing, .2cc – nope.  .3cc – nope, .4cc – nope, .5cc – okay, yup there we have it – a measurable difference.  Measurable to whom?  Has he ever heard of physics?  Okay but seriously that was the breaking point for me.  Not the blow jobs I’ve had to give him, or the souls I’ve lost along the way.  Or the meaningful way I lick his shoes.  It was the utter belief he had that anything less than .5cc was useless. 

I mean let’s just look at me in the last week, shall we.  .5cc ago I could eat a small cow, the fluid just flew down my band as he saw.  But add the .5cc and I often had trouble swallowing my own spit.  But apparently there’s nothing in the middle.  It’s either the small cow or the no swallowing period.  Swallowing – that’s really the only reason he took any out at all.  He likes that I swallow.  It makes explaining what we do behind closed doors much easier when there’s no thick and gloppy evidence left lying about.

I think the nurses “What are you doing eating ice cream” comment didn’t help much either. 

The end result of course is that – oh sweet Jesus.  I can swallow again.  I had only managed 16 oz of water by 3pm and nothing else at all so as soon as I got to my car I drank a Special K protein shake down (slowly, being careful).  Thank the heavenly lord above – no issues.  Then I even stopped at Chick-fil-a and got a small cookies and cream milk shake – Yummo!  Yup, I am drinking a fucking milk shake and am damn happy I am.  Did I mention I threw up ice cream, ice cream for God’s sake, last night?

Now I no longer feel all hollowed out and I won’t have to perform any more unnecessary blow jobs.