Those of you who are regular readers of this column know that I have written a few times over the past five months about my journey towards gastric bypass surgery. After fighting my insurance company, switching surgeons once when it was clear that the surgeon and I had a different definition of the initials M.D. (he thought they stood for major deity, I didn’t), and going through every medical and mental test known to man, I finally received word that surgery had been approved and scheduled. I immediately panicked.
I panicked because I was sure those mental health evaluations had