Doctor’s office music…

Posted: June 7, 2012 in Bariatric surgery, music, regrets
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As I sat in the doctor’s office this afternoon, the dulcet tones of Bryan Adams crooned out through hidden speakers. As Mr. Adams (who has been apologized for on multiple occasions by the Canadian government) was telling everyone in the waiting room that everything he did, he did for us, it dawned on me that this is what I really want to avoid. Spending a goodly chunk of my life waiting in doctors offices, waiting to die. (As an aside, it’s not a good thing if you’re the mayor of a doctor’s office on foursquare and you don’t work there.)

This was a simple podiatrist appointment, or as I call it, my pedicure. Not too bad in the realm of doctor visits… he normally trims up the toenails, gives the feet a once over and that’s about it. Not really traumatic. But on the road of life, it’s a pothole. This is the main reason why I’m leaning toward an operation. Am I excited about going under general anesthesia? Hell no. (Granted, Versed is some good stuff… ask The Management. She witnessed me go from a ball of quivering nerves to singing a medley of 70’s hits in a few minutes)

I’m already getting a pet peeve about the bariatric surgery world. The peeve is people who think it’s the easy way out. There’s nothing easy about this process. It’s six months of work, basically relearning how to eat, relearning how to live, actually, and there’s a helluva lot of sacrifices to be made. The surgery is simply a means to an end. It’s not the end itself. The only way this operation will work is if I’m all in. I can’t do this half-assed, otherwise I’m right back asking for a seatbelt extender on the plane and being forced to buy a second seat on Southwest Airlines. No thanks.

I don’t want to be the fat guy just bouncing from doctor to doctor waiting to die. That’s not living. That’s an existence, and not a particularly good one. I can do better.

I’m not crazy…

Posted: June 6, 2012 in Bariatric surgery, diabetes, Stress, The Beetus, Weight loss
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Well, the appointment with the psychologist went well. It was nice to lay out a lot of what’s been eating at me over the last however many years and to get some affirmation that I’m not crazy. Dr. Collins was able to give me some recommendations and also some helpful hints to get ready for the surgery.

Yes, I think that as of this juncture I’m going to go through with it. I’m about at the end of the rope with the injections and the constant joint pain and the sleep apnea and everything else. I want to be healthy… I waited long enough to find the right woman and I want to have as much time with her as I can. I owe it to myself to stick around, too… there’s a lot that I haven’t seen/done, so I need more time to work on the bucket list.

Speaking of bucket list stuff, we’re about five weeks from the Roger Waters show. To see The Wall performed live will be something to cross off the list. If, by some miracle, David Gilmour were to show up and do Comfortably Numb with Waters, well, that would be cause for an eargasm.

It’s been a sad year for music, though. There’s been a lot of good ones (IMHO) who have departed the mortal coil in 2012 so far. Let’s take a look at that roll call (and I’m sure I missed a few… I’m getting old):

Etta James
Whitney Houston
Ronnie Montrose
Leon Spencer
Earl Scruggs
Andrew Love (Memphis Horns)
Levon Helm
Adam (MCA) Yauch
Donald “Duck” Dunn
Donna Summer
Davy Jones
Robin Gibb
Eduard Khil

So, folks… there you have it. I have my first group session on Friday… we shall see how that goes.

Next step

Posted: June 5, 2012 in Bariatric surgery, family, friends, Stress, Weight loss
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Greetings!

After yesterday’s tangential rant, I thought I would take the focus back to the weight. See, tomorrow afternoon is my psych consult. Apparently, they want to figure out why I am the way I am. Good luck with that. As Charlie Sheen said, “You can’t process me with a normal brain!”

And I just know this is what it will look like.

Seriously, the purpose of the consult is to determine if I’m a good candidate for surgery. Seems they won’t do it unless I have the right attitude and frame of mind to make it work. I’m actually looking forward to this, but I’m nervous at the same time. I’ve been thinking I should seek out a professional for some time, because I know that I have issues. I’m hoping that a session will be a good beginning, something that I can build on and get better.

I have no doubt that I have issues. I think everyone has issues of some kind, in some cases buried deep, in others, right on a sleeve. It’s finding the issues, confronting them, and reaching a peace that’s important.

I’ll let you know how it goes… so please keep good thoughts for me.

A rant…

Posted: June 4, 2012 in friends, gay marriage, rights
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I’ve been known to rant from time to time. I once read that it can be good for you to get things off your chest. I don’t normally listen and tend to internalize, but this time, I’m pissed.

Wondering what is pissing me off? This. Seems that the fine folks that run the newspaper here in cow country feel that publishing a same-sex engagement announcement would suddenly give everyone gay cooties. We have the following non-answer from Harold E. Miller, erstwhile CEO of Lancaster Newspapers:

“Our readers have come to depend on our judgement, taste, tone and discretion in publishing advertising to be admitted into their homes. They select our newspapers because of these qualities and we believe we are obligated to uphold their selection by declining to publish advertising announcements and notices which, in our opinion, are not consistent with prevailing community standards.”

Miller went on to add that the prevailing community standard is “what we believe to be the most typical behavior in the entire Lancaster County community.”

I call bovine scatology.

All this high and mighty talking about how they are the arbiters of deciding which good, wholesome content makes its way into the Lancaster County home is kind of funny when you realize it comes from a paper that routinely prints advertising from the local titty bars.

News flash, folks. There are gay people out there. I know some of them. They are good, decent hardworking people in committed relationships who just want the same rights and freedoms as everyone else. It’s not some kind of vast gay conspiracy. They are not out to turn the world gay. Really.

Now, were you to go back a few years, I might have felt differently. That’s before I met anyone who was out of the closet, so to speak. I knew the stereotypes… all gay men had a severe lisp, all lesbians wore Birkenstocks and listened to the Indigo Girls, etc. As so often happens with stereotypes, they simply are not true and it’s a relief when they are shattered. When we moved into our house, we met our next door neighbor, a single gay man with an adopted son. I challenge any one who says that gay people shouldn’t be allowed to marry and have a family to watch him interact with his son and then compare that with the hetero folks you see at Walmart screaming at their neglected kids. No contest. Not to mention the fact that he’s a great neighbor, very friendly, quiet, takes good care of his house. What more can you ask for?

When The Management and I first got involved with the Disney fan community we met a couple of the most caring, big-hearted and genuine people we’ve ever had the honor to be associated with. They are a same-sex couple and I’ll go right on the record saying that I consider their friendship something that I am incredibly honored to have been given and something I will continue to treasure. It infuriates me that these people, very much in love and committed to each other for years are not treated the same under the law as Kim Kardashian and the chump she “married” for 71 days. (As an aside, does it disturb anyone else that this woman, whose primary claims to fame are having a large butt and making a sex tape with a third-rate rapper, is still around? I was hoping she’d go away soon. Alas, no such luck.)

I’ll take heat from certain circles for this post. I know this, but I don’t care. What’s right is right and if you say to a certain group that they can’t get married, what’s to stop the haters from saying that blacks can’t get married, or Jews can’t get married, or whatever population subgroup you want to discriminate against can’t get married. That’s just ignorant and hateful. This is 2012, not 1912, and while I would like to think that humanity has evolved, that’s apparently not the case here.

I wouldn’t go so far as to urge a boycott of the paper, despite what I tweeted earlier, as that wouldn’t get the point across to the powers that be. A boycott hurts the people at the bottom a lot more than those at the top. In addition, I sincerely doubt Mr. Miller would feel the heat. He’d just start laying off employees who depend on the company to provide for their families, all to save his profit margin. Instead, burn up the phone lines, fill up the inbox, even resort to snail mail. Get your displeasure on record and let them know that this discrimination has no place in the 21st century. Mr. Miller likes focus groups. Let’s see what a lot of people focusing their ire squarely on him can do to bring about change.

If you are neutral in situations of injustice, you have chosen the side of the oppressor. If an elephant has its foot on the tail of a mouse and you say that you are neutral, the mouse will not appreciate your neutrality. ~ Archbishop Desmond Tutu

Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed people can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has. ~ Margaret Mead

BREAKING NEWS!!!!! In an encouraging development, Mr. Miller has announced that the company will reverse the policy, the decision driven in part by reader response. It’s nice to see that clearer heads have prevailed and the couple in question will have their engagement announcements in next Sunday’s paper. Mr. Miller apparently contacted the couple personally to tell them of the change and to apologize. It’s a shame that it took the outcry it did, but it’s very nice to see LNP move forward. For more details, the story can be found here.

The bane of my existence…

Posted: June 3, 2012 in homeowner's association, previous occupant, Wanda
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So, The Management and I spent some time working on the house today. I painted the trim on the porch and the garage, she planted the rest of her flowers and veg. The place really looks good… the fresh paint makes things look pretty clean, and the new flowers certainly add a nice touch of color. I usually leave the flowers and planting to The Management, as I don’t have much of a green thumb. I have more of a black thumb. Seems like any plant I touch withers and dies. I can kill kudzu.

I have a confession to make, though. I did something that our Homeowner’s Association would not approve of. Please don’t tell, but I painted with a different shade of white than specified by the by-laws. I did this because a real white pops more than the crappy off-white they want me to use. I also realized when replacing the fence two summers ago that the prescribed white didn’t match the approved fence post caps and it looked like crap. So I took matters into my own hands. Sometimes a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.

Responsibility for enforcing the bylaws of the association falls to Wanda, the property manager. Near as I can tell, her job involves taking kickbacks from the lawn “service”, hassling people who shouldn’t be hassled, and not hassling those that should. Case in point. If you look to the left of the garage door, you’ll see a dwarf Alberta spruce. That’s a replacement for the shrub that was there when we moved in. See, the shrub was really nasty looking, but over the course of our first year, I spent hours reshaping and trimming the shrub to make it look presentable.

One fine day, after spending about an hour  on the shrub and really being happy with it, I walked up to the mailbox and found a letter from Wanda informing us that said shrub was in violation of the bylaw that requires on-property foliage to be under six feet. Our shrub was around seven feet. As I read this, I could feel pure and simple rage starting to boil in my veins. I looked around to other houses, seeing many with shrubs much taller than I. I lost it. The Management will tell you that she never saw me as angry as I was that day. I immediately went and lopped off around a foot and a half to the shrub, and apparently I was not the only one to receive a similar letter. As you drove up the street, you could see many flat-topped shrubs. I soon grew tired of how bad it looked and went to purchase the little spruce that you see now.

The Management and I cut down the old one (she let me get a reciprocating saw… SCORE!) and replaced it with the new shrub, measuring much shorter. Imagine my surprise when we received ANOTHER letter from Wanda telling us our shrub was exceeding the six foot height limit… showing here.

Taller than six feet? In what measuring system?

Soooo, I promptly fired off a letter to Wanda informing her that while I appreciated her dedication to enforcing the bylaws, perhaps a lesson in reading a tape measure might be in order. As expected, she was less than enthused and fired back with yet another pointless criticism about a crack in the sidewalk. Sigh. This was not the first criticism, nor will it be the last. There was the time when we moved in that we were told we needed to replace all the outdoor light fixtures because they were pitted and the brass finish was corroding. Never mind that the entire unit of townhouses across the street have nasty outside lights, including two that recently changed hands. We were told we needed to replace the deck, which I would’ve done anyway. We opted to replace it with a composite material and when we submitted the proposal to them, cited the other home in our development with a similar coloration and style, we were asked to provide more detail regarding color and style, because I guess looking out the window presented a challenge. When we opted to replaced the dry-rotting French door on the patio with a sliding door, they wanted pictures. The door was being custom-made for us, so I just took a picture of my neighbor’s sliding door and the apparently was enough. So when the time came to replace the screen door, I didn’t even submit plans. Makes me even more of a rebel, I know.

I should add that the previous owner could charitably be described as filthy. I have many other names for him, but he didn’t leave us a lot to work with. I consider it to be a small miracle that we’ve gotten the place in the shape that it is.

So, the point of the story is that when you have an evil, vindictive witch as a property manager, beware because she will become the bane of your existence. My only advice is to avoid all HOAs, if possible, The idea that you don’t have to mow your grass or shovel your snow* is nice, on the surface. When you realize what a piss poor job they do on the mowing (and they will mow your flowerbeds for free!) you start to wonder if it’s worth it. Granted, you still have to pay your association dues whether they cut your grass or not.

I do wonder, though, if Wanda would mind if we replaced the lilac in the front flowerbed with something more festive…

Moo!

*   They only shovel if it’s more than 3″… otherwise you’re on your own. And God forbid you need to get to work in the morning. You’ll be shoveling yourself out.

Home excavation… or How I learned to stop hoarding and love the dumpster

Posted: June 2, 2012 in Cleaning, home improvement, Yard sale
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(Beep… Beep… Beep…)

Yes, that is the sound you used to hear as I would exit my erstwhile office and full-time dumping ground. It was where junk mail went to molder. Notice I said “Used to…”

See, in the five years that we’ve occupied this house, I’ve done a lot to it. I’ve finished the basement, replaced the fence, rebuilt the guest room, built the Nerd Lair, etc. I always seemed to neglect my office. Not because I had any particular desire to see if junk mail mated and reproduced in the light of the full moon (it does), but just a case of procrastination. Seems both The Management and I are guilty of this. I just find it hard to get motivated to do something mundane, like take a shovel and see if I can find the floor in that room.

It all started on move in day. This became one of the spots to dump stuff that we weren’t sure we knew where we wanted it. This laid the seeds. I kept a paper shredder up there to dispose of unwanted paperwork and I would take the junk mail up to be shredded. I just never got around to the shredding. So stuff would be piling up and we’d get company. The office became the dumping ground for stuff that we didn’t really know where to put but it needed to be but had to be away so our friends and family didn’t think we were complete and utter slobs.

Not quite that bad, but could be without an intervention.

It got to the point that I couldn’t really reach my computer anymore, so I began using the Management’s on a regular basis. I sold that computer and that left the Giant Corner Computer Desk from Hell as yet another place to pile things upon. It is my desire to sell the aforementioned Desk from Hell as A) I no longer keep a desktop in that room; and B) I never had a corner in the room large enough to fit the aforementioned Desk from Hell. There’s a window, a door or a closet.

Since I set upon the course to sell the desk, I had to first find it. I’m exaggerating, but not by much. That translated into a full-scale excavation effort to rival the Panama Canal. The Management always claims she’d like a dumpster. I’m more of a flamethrower fan myself, but that’s beside the point. Through digging all sorts of old papers out of the closet, including BJ’s coupons from 2008 and a reminder card to get the driveway resealed that’s two years old, I’ve been able to find some cool stuff that has gone missing. I even found my old high school cap and gown, which there’s no way I’d fit in. I found some character sketches that The Management and I made at the Art of Disney Animation attraction, as well as a certificate marking our fourth wedding anniversary that was provided to us when we were named Family of the Day at the American Adventure pavilion back in 2008.

I’ve found instruction books and warranty certificates, electronics boxes, extension cords, coupons, even some cash ($0.87, to be exact). And the process is still ongoing. I’ve shredded enough paper to fill six garbage bags and there’s still more to be done.

I’m taking this as one of my small steps toward a better quality of life. If I can change one small thing about myself, then other small changes will follow. Pretty soon this will add up to big, positive changes. If I can make this work, then I will have no problems making more lifestyle changes. Maybe it would be nice to fit in that graduation gown again… after all, I wasn’t always as large as I am.

The moral of the story is this: If you have a room filled with enough shit that there’s a chance you might find Jimmy Hoffa, you might want to consider cleaning it up. You spent a lot of money on nice floor coverings, might be nice to actually see it from time to time. If you are a shredder fan, don’t wait years to attack the shredding pile. Do it more frequently before those innumerable credit card offers start getting busy and spawning smaller offers. Be dispassionate. If you haven’t missed it in five years, chances are you can probably sell it, donate it, or dispose of it. This way you won’t ever have to hear your spouse, domestic partner, mom or whoever describe you as “housekeeping challenged.” Plus, dumpster rental ain’t cheap.

De gustibus non est disputandum

Posted: June 1, 2012 in Convoy, music
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Yes, dear readers. I am bilingual! (but only if my ability to spout off trite Latin sayings or to say “More beer” in Spanish counts)

The title of the post is Latin. It translates into “In matters of taste, there can be no disputes.” I figured it’s apropos since I wanted to talk about some of the schlock that has graced my music collection (and that of The Management) for quite some time.

See, my musical tastes would best be described as eclectic. In the collection you will find genres spanning from 70’s progressive rock to hardcore bop to gangsta rap to blues to smooth jazz, easy listening, 80’s cheese, longhaired classical, New Age, country, well, you get the picture. I even have some Celtic rock salted through the shelves. Point is, I like an awful lot of stuff. See, music is something I was raised with and it’s still a huge part of my life. Always has been, and as long as I can hear, it always will be. Our tastes change… for example, when I was in middle school, I thought that Michael Jackson sucked. As I got older I could listen to the music and really appreciate the artistry that was involved in creating Thriller and its even better predecessor, Off the Wall. All that being said, there’s music that just flat-out sucks for some people and other folks love it. This happens even in the same household.

Here’s an example. The Management does not necessarily appreciate the musical genius that is Gordon Lightfoot. Or the guilty pleasure that is CW McCall’s classic “Convoy.” So one day after she bogarted my Best of the 70’s playlist for her own iPod, she was driving home late at night when she got a back to back dose of Convoy followed by The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald. (Did you know there are apparently multiple schools of thought about the circumstances surrounding said wreck, one of which involves abduction by space aliens?) She was mortified, to say the least and claimed she almost wrecked from the sheer awesomeness of that playlist.

I do find it ironic that a woman who actually owns not one, but two, count them, TWO Shaun Cassidy albums would be able to criticize the modern-day troubadour, but that’s the beauty of it all. See, we like what we like and we can agree to disagree.

There is one CD on the shelves that promises profuse suckage and delivers on that promise. It’s a compilation called 70’s Party Killers. On this disc are such landmark recordings as “Afternoon Delight” from the Starland Vocal Band and “Muskrat Love” from The Captain and Tennille, for which I’m providing a video.

One other “classic” from the 70s that deserves mention would have to be Maria Muldaur’s “Midnight at the Oasis” which contains some really deep lyrics where she implores you to “…send your camel to bed.” I can’t resist uploading a video of this gem.

On that note, gentle readers, I bid you a most excellent weekend filled with good food, friends, drink and fun. And cheesy music.

Until next time, au revoir! (See, I’m TRILINGUAL!)

It’s that time of year… for a yard sale

Posted: May 30, 2012 in Yard sale
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So, it’s heading into summer yard sale season. I’ve been involved with yard sales and flea markets for years. Usually grudgingly. I took that attitude from my dad who used to claim that his role was strictly transport. Well, that and loading/unloading. And foraging for lunch as my mom would sell anything that wasn’t nailed down. Happy meal toys? Sell. Fresh cut flowers? Sell. First born male child? Keep, but I’m sure there were times she would wonder what she could get for me. Back in those days, I would be a buyer. I’d take my allowance money and wander around, one time returning with a crappy Kodak 110 camera, another time with a US Air Force T-shirt that was about 27 sizes too large for me. These were just a few of the “highlights” that I would bring back home. Inevitably, the aforementioned crap would wind up being sold the next time around.

Other than my buying excursions, I hated the flea market scene. I hated the collectors and dealers who would be poking through your stuff before you could even finish unpacking it. I remember vividly one time, some grizzled old goat muttering, “You have any tools?” and my dad looking him straight in the eye and saying, “You want tools? Go to Sears.” I think that the shamelessness of these people offended me even as a kid. I’m all in favor of making a good deal, but there should be an element of fairness. You know, if I’m selling a DVD that’s still in the shrink wrap and asking a buck, don’t try to get me down to a quarter. That’s just insulting. And, for the love of God, don’t be some damn cheap that you’ll try to shoplift.

Anyway, my attitude has softened as my years have advanced. I no longer see the yard sale as a fate worse than the death of a thousand cuts, but rather a chance to get somebody to take something I don’t want and would get rid of anyway, with the added bonus of a little extra scratch in the coffers. Plus, it saves me the trouble of having to dispose of stuff myself. If we can make $50 or so, tax-free, well, that’s worth a few hours dealing with the clientele. At least here in Cow Country. See, while we have the cheap bastards, we get a decent smattering of Amish and Mennonites. They buy and are usually very fair with their offers. Also, they don’t try to abscond with a 25 cent stuffed animal.

So, I’m off to cull through the wreckage that I call an office. The sale is in just over a week, followed by our remote sale in the bustling metropolis of Blandon, PA the weekend after Independence Day. I know I’ll be selling a corner computer desk and a nice kitchen prep/side table, not to mention whatever electronics I have to unload, some PC games, and clothing. If you’re in Cow Country on June 9, check out the neighborhood sale in Bradford Run, located two blocks from Farmdale Elementary School off of Prospect Road. Remember, in the words of The Management, everything has a price and everything is negotiable.

Happy shopping!

Change of scenery

Posted: May 29, 2012 in diabetes, Stress, The Beetus
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I’ve found that when you’re in the midst of a down cycle, whether it be food, mood, whatever, sometimes a change of scenery can help.

I’m spending the week at another one of my company’s facilities doing some acceptance testing on a new version of our typesetting software. I came home from work and stuck a blood sugar reading of 113. I’m pretty pleased about that. Usually it’s a lot higher when I get home from the office. I think that stress has something to do with that. Sometimes my job, or the BS surrounding it, can be rather trying. I don’t want to deal with the BS… I want to go and do my job and come home. Maybe that means I’m asking too much, but that’s how it is.

It was a good food day. I took some leftover tomato/mozzarella salad and had some crackers. Reasonably filling and tasty. That’s all you need.

Hope to check in over the next couple days with something more substantive.

Oh, and I started culling the Facebook friends list. If I never met you face to face and we’ve not had any meaningful exchanges, don’t take offense, but you probably won’t make the cut.

Holiday weekend fun stuff

Posted: May 27, 2012 in friends, Magic Meets, Travel, Wegman's
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Good evening!

Hope that you are all enjoying the holiday weekend. Please make sure to celebrate responsibly.

The Management and I ventured to the wooly hinterlands of New Cumberland for a meet up/picnic with our Disney friends. We had a lovely time filled with lots of laughs, stories and yummy food that I managed not to go overboard on. Cindy, our gracious hostess, made some awesome sliders that included andouille sausage, beef and pecans of all things. There was a tasty buffalo chicken dip, mac & cheese, and much other goodness. I did a batch of my famous chocolate chip cookies that did not last long, and The Management and I brought along the frozen concoction maker, a selection of booze, and ingredients for various margaritas. One of these ingredients was a reduced sugar sweet and sour mix. Instead of 25g of sugar, this only has 1g. That’s pretty sweet (no pun intended) in my book. In this case, fresh pineapple and mangos. The first one we tried was avocado. The Management thought it looked like wheat grass. I was thinking more of a nuclear specimen, but maybe that’s just me. A little later in the day, one of the kids wanted a strawberry virgin margarita. Threw a bunch of strawberries in the jug along with orange and lime juices and it turned out to be pretty darn good. After the kids were done, the turned it into an adult margarita that got really decent reviews. I plan on making that part of the repertoire.

You may be asking what I was doing with all these drinks, because as a diabetic, alcohol isn’t my friend. That’s a good point. I’ve long since passed the point where I have to imbibe. I had a sip of the strawberry and of the pineapple. The nice thing is that our friends understand my condition and respect it so that there’s no pressure to drink. I’m not a total abstainer, but I know when to say when and these folks respect that. The downside is that it’s been over a year since I last had a beer. Temptation was kind of removed as we didn’t have any Sam Adams Black Lager in the beer fridge. Had there been, the previous statement probably would’ve been null and void.

So, getting back to our Disney crew… we all met through something called Magic Meets, founded by Fred Block. Most of us were volunteers who started helping out in hopes of meeting people in the fan community. At least that’s why The Management and I joined the ranks. We never dreamed it would pay off like it has, not just in the quantity of people we have met, but also the quality. Besides getting to know Fred and his family, we’ve met people who live locally and formed a strong bond with, even though we’re very different. Magic Meets is currently on hiatus, but through the friendships we’ve made, we’ve been able to keep the spirit alive.

Since we were on the West Shore, it would’ve been a horrible oversight to not pay a visit to Wegman’s. I swear I hear a choir of angels every time I walk though the door. Nothing groundbreaking except for a nice brisket that The Management is planning on turning into a shredded masterpiece. I can almost taste it! We also picked up a few other items. Not a major trip, but any trip there is worth mentioning. There is a rumor that they might be coming to Cow Country. That would make my socks roll up and down if it pans out. Keep your fingers crossed!

I have to go back to work tomorrow, but I’m headed to another facility for the week. I’ll be doing User Acceptance testing on a new version of our page management and design software. It’s always fun when you get paid to try and break the software. The week after that, I have my appointment with the psychologist and my first group session in the bariatric program. I’m looking forward to them both, but I’m strangely nervous as well. We will see what happens!

Until next time, have a great holiday and remember those who have made the ultimate sacrifice.

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