How to have an Upper GI Test

After approximately 8 months of dietitian appointments, psychologist visits, doctor visits, a detour to a cardiologist for cardiac clearance (happily, nothing wrong), and reams of paperwork for insurance, I've managed to (insert amazement emote here) finally get a date for lap-band surgery. Dr. Chua's going to do the surgery on October 27th for those of you who wish to pray and/or think positive thoughts on this day. For those of you who read this because you can't stand me, it's scheduled for some time in 3011, so save your evil black thoughts for that year.

Last week I had to drive up to the hospital to have the pre-op testing. I thought it was going to be just one test. It turns out I had to have a whole bunch of tests, including an EKG (despite the fact that I had just seen the cardiologist), blood tests, pre-op interview, chest x-ray, blood pressure, pulse oximetry, urinalysis and pregnancy test, investigation of my fingernail clippings, collection of any toejam (none for me, I'd showered that morning), and counting the number of wrinkles on my kneecaps. This was done in a giant hospital gown that could be used as a sheet for five queen sized beds, it was so large. Now, I know that this hospital is a bariatric center, and we big people are a normal patient base for them. However, a Volkswagon Beetle could have fit under that gown and there still would have been enough material left over for the 18 people stuffed inside the car. After pulling up the gown off my shoulder umpteen times, I decided to rename it a toga, and I walked proudly through the hospital hallways to the various stations, my bag with my coat, shirt, bra, and book in hand, one shoulder exposed.

One of the tests that's required before weight loss surgery is the famous 'Upper GI'. This is a nice way of saying "Here, we're going to make you drink a cup of liquid white chalk and radiate you until you glow in the dark". That test description doesn't fit on insurance forms very well, however. As we all know, we must never make insurance companies do any work, or they'll charge us another 666 dollars. Per letter. Now you know why test names are so short and cryptic.

Anyway, after hearing any number of people complain about this test, I decided that I, a proud woman in a Beetle-sized blue-diamond print white toga, would not complain. I would suck it up and deal with it. Read the rest here....