2nd Week Post Op

Tuesday marked my post-op follow up with my dietitian and my cute surgeon.  

The dietitian visit was eye-opening.  As he explained it, my stomach can currently handle about a quarter cup of food.  My stomach will slowly expand to handle first a half cup, and then a full cup of food at one sitting.  Thankfully, this is natural and will not be due to some fault I make.  He explained weighing food by volume, instead of weight, as it is currently the volume that I am restricted by.  Therefore, a 4 oz Tuna steak could - by rights - be pureed to fit into a 1/4 cup container (or a 2 oz container).

Luckily, he also pointed out something that I had noticed.  I don't get full the way I used to.  The sensation is different, which can make it difficult to know WHEN I am full.  The way he explained it is that most people get a pressure just below their sternum that alerts them that they've had enough to eat.  My way of telling I'm full usually depends upon changes in my breathing, where I begin breathing deeper before taking a bite.  The bad part of my method is that it doesn't usually take effect until AFTER I've eaten too much.  This will come into play later in this blog.

Aside from that, I was to continue doing well and given the okay to return to work.

I was bad that day.  I woke up late for my appointment, which ran four hours, and then had to grocery shop and put groceries away, which means I ate or drank nothing till about 4 pm.  I had a popsicle because the idea of having more soup or protein shakes literally made me sick to my stomach.  Then, a few hours later, I joined a friend at Panera Bread and ordered some Tomato Soup.

I should have been on fluids for two more days but, as I said, I was literally becoming sick of the idea of having to sip another ounce.  So, the morning I returned to work, I took a calculated risk and tried my first taste of pureed protein.  The eggs with cheese sauce I had for breakfast went down fabulously.  Later in the day, I tried chicken salad, which also went down without a problem and tastes so much better than anything I'd had to for three weeks.

Unfortunately, the next day, my stomach began cramping after the eggs and - although I never threw up - I really, really felt like I wanted to.  So, I called work and told them I thought I'd bitten off more than I can chew (ha ha ha), and stayed home for the day.  The cramping and nausea persisted through lunch and my mid-day snack.  THIS was when I realized that the change in my breathing must be occurring when it is too late and I've already overeaten...or, at least I was eating too fast.  The 1/4 cup of pureed protein was supposed to last me 30 minutes, but I was eating it in 10-15 minutes.

Today, I've done a little better.  First, I've learned to only put food on the very tip of my spoon - not the whole surface area.   Secondly, I time my bites so that I take one bite every two minutes.  These two things now give me time to notice the subtle pressure below my sternum that the dietitian was talking about, signaling me to stop eating.  So, my third day has been a bit more successful, though I still missed work while I tried to work this all out.

Although I seem to have solved that problem, I've now having some pain in the front left of my stomach.  I'm not sure where it's come from, but it only hurts when I move, so I'm thinking it may be a muscle and not surgery related.

In regards to my current meal choices, I've pureed Tuna Salad, Chicken Salad and Turkey Club Salad.  I also made my dad pasta with ground turkey, Rosa sauce and some ricotta.  I took the meat sauce and pureed that, so it gives me a little taste of "Italian".  I also took some barbecued pork (light sauce) and pureed that.  Then, of course, there's my beloved eggs with cheese sauce.  It's not filet mignon, but damn does it taste better than soup!  Tonight, I think I'm going to try oatmeal and see how that hits the spot.

All in all, I'll be on the pureed diet until next Friday, when I begin soft proteins.

So, as you can see, I'm supposed to start for three weeks on soft protein; the first week being fish and seafood.  Unfortunately, I don't like fish (besides tuna and salmon) and I'm allergic to seafood.  Therefore, I don't foresee eating those two things for a full week.  So, the dietitian told me to do tuna, salmon and eggs the first week and then slowly try the other foods over the next two weeks.  I guess I'll just have to play it all by ear.

All in all, I've only lost three lbs this week, so I'm a bit disappointed by that.  Hopefully, I can get my energy levels up and get my stomach to behave long enough to start exercising more steadily, and that will make a difference.

Till next time, BE KIND!

Surgery & First Week Post-Op

So, I've made a compilation of video updates from surgery day and the first week post-op, but for those of you who prefer to read, skip the video below and I'll do my best to fill you in.

I woke up later than intended the day of surgery, but once Dad woke me up at 5:30, I jumped out of bed, packed the last of my things, showered, shampooed and was out in the car in less than 20 minutes.  We paused long enough to take two quick "Before" pictures - one front and one profile.  I wish I had thought of that sooner so I could have captured better quality images.

  I hadn't slept much, but I still had this burst of nervous, anxious energy as we drove to the hospital.  I knew I wouldn't be feeling so hyper later, so I kind of enjoyed it while it lasted.  I was given my hospital gown, hair-net and I became giddy when I saw that the socks were purple.

I'd never seen purple hospital socks before.  Purple was my mom's favorite color, so I took it as a sign from heaven that my mom was still there with me that day.  That might seem silly, but the thought was comforting none-the-less.

There was a flurry of activity as five different people asked me the same repetitive questions, but everyone was really nice and friendly.  I advised them I had woken up early from being sedated one before, so they gave me an extra shot before taking me for surgery.  That sucker packed a punch!  There was about 15 minutes of calm before they wheeled me out for surgery.  I think I might have started dozing off, because I don't remember saying goodbye to my Dad or telling him I loved him or anything.  I do remember them asking me to move over onto the operating table and putting the oxygen mask on, but I don't remember having to count backwards like you see on TV or in the movies.  I just passed out instantly.

The next thing I remember was waking up really groggy in recovery.  My dad was there, as expected, but I really surprised to find my brother and sister-in-law there, too!  I remembered being very uncomfortable and wanting to sit up.  It hurt to move, but I just kept feeling if I could sit up, that the pain wouldn't be as bad.  So I wiggled and scooted till I was in a sitting position.  Everyone kept telling me to calm down and relax, but I just kept moving till I sat up enough to have some relief.

They inflated my abdomen for the surgery, so I felt uncomfortably bloated, my ribs hurt, my back hurt and it hurt the most every time I breathed.  I found out that I had a hernia repair during the surgery, which also added to my pain and discomfort.

The first day was pretty bad. My mouth stayed terribly dry since I couldn't drink anything. I couldn't get comfortable no matter what I did.  My blood pressure went through the roof and I had to be put on medicine to lower it.  The pain meds made me horribly nauseous.  I looked so bad, the nurses were even concerned.

I had to do a leak test Saturday afternoon so, after having nothing to drink for 36 hours, I had to drink barium, which tastes like wet chalk.  They had the x-ray watch as I swallowed and showed me the x-ray image of my smaller stomach after it was done.  With no leaks detected, they brought me lunch shortly after - a wide variety of clear liquids.

I didn't want any of it.  I craved water because I was so parched, but even that I had to be careful with.  I could feel the movement of the water through my esophagus and into my stomach, and whenever the fluid hit my sleeve, it constricted painfully.

But, to say I recovered quickly is an understatement.  By the first night, discomfort aside, I was able to get up and go to the bathroom without help.  By the next day, I was getting out of bed with only a few grunts and groans and by Sunday, I was able to pack up my stuff to leave for home.

All of my concerns about being upstairs or downstairs were for not.  I climbed the stairs without a problem and got into bed with only minor discomfort.

I miscalculated and ended up waiting an extra day before moving back to full fluids.  I tried and learned that I like Tomato Soup, which was nice as it gave me a little more variety than I'd had before.  Slowly, my stomach stopped seizing up every time I sipped something.  I had some cramping and diarrhea for a couple of days but, by now, everything seems to be functioning back to normal.

It is true that I'm not physically hungry and, when I eat, I get full quickly.  Well - it's weird, actually.  I don't feel full in the usual sense.  Because I'm never hungry, when I eat, I pay attention to my breathing.  When my breathing changes, I know I'm full and stop eating.  But, I never have that "full" feeling in my belly.  It's just...."satisfied".   Now, if I open a can of soup for breakfast, I can eat the same can for lunch and finish it for dinner.  Same thing with protein shakes - they now last 3-4 meals.

The problem I am most concerned with is my psychology.  Although my body is not hungry - I'm mentally hungry.  Every food I see or smell or think about sounds good and I crave it.  I've called a Behavior Modification Therapist, but she never returned any of my calls, so now I need to try to find someone else.

Another post-op problem was depression.  By Tuesday (5 days post op), I began to feel down.  Nothing drastic, I just had a serious case of the blahs.  So, since I was feeling well enough, I set about doing housework.  I stopped when I needed to rest, but having a goal and a sense of purpose helped a little.

By the Wednesday after surgery, I went for a walk around my neighborhood.   I didn't get very far, but I figure I've got to start somewhere, right?  I also hoped the exercise might give me some endorphins to help kick up my mood.  I'm still battling the depression daily, but I find keeping busy is helping.

I've been contemplating going back to work early, since I feel physically able and since I am not getting paid for my time off.  I go for my Post-Op Evaluation tomorrow, so I figure I'll talk to my doctor and supervisor about it at that time.  I'm thinking getting back to the swing of things might also help with the blahs.

All in all, I lost a total of 10 lbs the first week after surgery.  I haven't experienced any weight loss this week thus far, but I know Rome wasn't built in a day, and it will take time to get where I'm going.

Thanks for taking this journey with me.

Please be kind.

It's the Final Countdown! (Chop Shop Tomorrow!)

Felt a little chatty this morning, so I thought I'd update you on the final stage of my Pre-Op Diet, some of the side effects of my Fluid Only regimen, and the deets on my surgery tomorrow morning!

Haven't eaten too much today, as the broth just isn't appealing to me, but I have been trying to suck back Propel Zero and water all day to get as hydrated as possible.  Wasn't having a hard time until my manager decided to throw a cake and ice cream party right around my desk.  I sat down quietly, but the party-goers kept coming over to talk to me while they ate, or telling me I should try the "life changing" brownies.

Then, at home, I had to prepare barbecue pork and some wild rice for my Dad to eat - the stuff made my mouth water and it looked so very good that I almost took a bite and TOTALLY forgot I was dieting.

Luckily, I pushed through it all and can proudly say that the worst I've cheated on my diet was having some onions in my onion soup on Mother's Day - but in my defense, we were at a restaurant and it was the only thing I could eat, and they were pretty impossible to eat around.

I go into the Chop Shop in less than 12 hours!!!  Will try to record updates as I remember, but will probably not be able to post again until I get home.

Please be kind.

Grumble-Grumble (aka: Fluids Only Sucks!)

Here's a short update on how I'm coping on Day 5 of my Fluid Only diet.  (I miscounted and said Day 4 in the video.)

On another note, a high school classmate posted this picture of me, and it got me to thinking...

This is an actual picture - the only editing I did was to crop out the others in the image.

I was about 16 in this picture, and I hated my body. I thought I was so horrifically fat and ugly.  The sad part is, I remember feeling fat and ugly for at least 6 years before this picture was taken, too.

Yet, here I am nearly 20 years later, and this is what I strive to look like once again.

The point is, please, be honest, but be kind with yourselves. Don't look at yourself or your body through the dark lenses of self loathing and insecurity, and stop comparing yourselves with the images in the media that were created through photo shopping or plastic surgery.

I was once as beautiful on the outside as I am on the in, and I wasted those moments feeling ugly. I may never, ever look like this girl again, but dammit, if I gain nothing else through this experience, it will be to take advantage of every moment and to stop holding myself to unrealistic expectations.

I hope you do, too.

Please be kind.

What Goes In, Must Come Out (aka: I'll Be In Bed If You Need Me)

Day Three of my Low Cal, Sugar Free, Caffeine Free, Non-Carbonated Fluid Diet.

I've lost my will to live.

I can't get full.  I just get sloshy.

First of all, food is EVERYWHERE.  Commercials.  TV Shows.  Movies.  Billboards.  Every third post on Facebook is a recipe.  Even my computer booted up with a random shot of muffins as the screen saver.  WTF?

Picked up my Dad and my Aunt from the train station this evening and took them to dinner.  They had sweet bread with butter and fried calamari and fish and chips and pasta.  Know what I ate?  Water.  The wait staff looked at me like I had three heads.

Worst of all?  Consuming only liquids can become a logistical nightmare in "other" ways.

So...yeah.  I get to do this all over again tomorrow.

Grrrrreat.

Please be kind.

I Ain't Gonna Lie (aka: The Storm Before The Calm)

I'm going to be honest because - let's face it - what is the point of doing a blog about Gastric Sleeve Surgery if you're not going to be honest about what you're going through.

So, let's go back to where I last left you - just as I was starting my two week, pre-surgery, soft protein diet.

Although I had a rough start sipping 64-80 ounces of water a day, I was easily within range by Day 3 and maintained that throughout the two week period.

Not drinking water 30 minutes before to 30 minutes after a meal was truly agonizing - but I managed to do that, too.

I failed at eating slowly, easily finishing my food within 5 to 10 minutes, which is a bad thing as it's a major part of being able to eat post surgery.  I'm really going to have to focus my energy on slowing down and thoroughly chewing every single bite of food, and giving my stomach time to alert me that I am full, or else, I could gag, throw up or easily overeat (which I hear is all quite uncomfortable and/or painful).

After my first failed attempt at trying pureed, protein baby food, I never had the nerve to try it again.  However, I found that I was perfectly content eating lean deli meats like honey turkey, and I pretty much lived off of the protein salads (chicken, turkey, ham, egg) from Publix.  It wasn't until Day 13 that I began to loathe the thought of having to eat another one.  Sugar free jello, almonds and low fat, sugar free pudding were all wonderful little treats.

Altogether, I lost 12 lbs over the first two weeks.

However, approaching the end of my soft protein diet, I began to experience anxiety attacks.  On the surface, I feel great.  I'm in control, optimistic, eager, excited, hopeful...  On the surface, I'm Mary Freaking Poppins.  But, what lurks beneath is apparently a little bit of nerves and anxiety.  It wasn't until after these episodes began that I realized how overwhelming it all is.  All the pre-surgery and post-surgery restrictions.

Add in to that some guy drama (yet another wolf in sheep's clothing.  *sigh*) and my first real Mother's Day without my mom and, yeah.  I can see where the anxiety was coming from.

I struggled with it until last night, when I gave in and had pizza and brownies.

On the plus side, it was the only thing I ate for the entire day, so I still came in under calories.  But, it wasn't a part of my diet, and for that, I failed.  I could beat myself up, but I've learned that you just have to take successes and failures as they come.  As Baz Luhrman said: "Whatever you do, don't congratulate yourself too much, or berate yourself either.  Your choices are half chance.  So are everybody else's."

So, today, I started over.

Today begins the next stage of my pre-surgery diet; this stage required by my surgeon and dietitian.  For the next 7 days, I will be on a strict low-cal, no sugar, no caffeine, non-carbonated fluid diet.

Doesn't leave much, does it?

Luckily, this includes protein shakes, broth, some soups, jello, popsicles and pudding.

Then, on the day before surgery, I am left with only clear fluids.  Decaffeinated tea and coffee are both options, but I am not much of a fan of either. So, for me, this will be zero-calorie energy drinks, broth, jello and popsicles for one day.

And then, as if it wasn't hard enough, nothing but air can pass my lips after midnight the day of my surgery.  I can only hope and pray that I am the first surgery of the day, as I tend to get really bad dry mouth, and that's just gonna suck.

This is it, folks.  I know so many other people have been through this before me, and I know this is a routine procedure, but I find myself terrified.

Can you be terrified without being afraid?

I really don't feel scared.  I have no fear of dying on the table or being butchered or anything like that.  I'm fully confident in my surgeon and his team.

So no, there really is nothing for me to fear.

Yet, I feel terrified none the less.  Terrified of the unknown.  Terrified of leaving behind the only kind of life I've ever lived.  Terrified of changing; for the better or the worse.  Terrified that, amongst these changes, I will somehow lose track of who I am.  Terrified of failing.

Another truth?

I want my mommy.

*sigh*

Please be kind.

April 29th (aka: My Rebirthday)

Today is an important day for me.

In 2006, at about a size 26/28, I started a new job and inherited my mom’s manual 1986 Honda Civic.  I hadn’t been driving very long (I started late), but was proud that I’d mastered the stick shift well enough to be trusted to drive the car back and forth to my new job.

All in all, things were going pretty well for me.

However, I found myself terribly sleepy all the time.  I relied on energy drinks to keep me from dozing through the work day and often reverted to screaming, pinching and slapping myself on the drive to and from work just to keep myself awake.

 

It was absolutely miserable.

Then 10 years ago, at 7:55 on the morning of April 29^th, I turned left onto the highway.  I blinked.

I opened my eyes just in time to see a white truck coming at me from ahead and to my right, turning onto the street I was traveling on.

It was too late to stop, so my instinct was to swerve.

I did not pass out for the duration of the accident or the recovery.  I was awake for the shattering of the glass.  I was awake for the tearing sound of the metal around me.  Even when a river of blood flowed down my face and into my eyes and mouth…I was awake.

I was awake as I realized the blood would ruin the blouse I borrowed from my mom without asking.  

I was awake as I remembered my dad’s golf clubs were in the back of the car and probably damaged.  

I was awake as I reached for my phone on the passenger seat and felt hot pavement instead.  To my left was the back seat of the car.

I was awake for the paramedics who used the jaw of life to remove me from the car, for the helicopter flight, for the intense violation of the trauma team as they checked my most private places for signs of injuries.

And I was never more painfully awake then when the police officer came to explain that I’d run a red light.  It was not until then that I learned witnesses said I’d run a red light.  When he told me where the accident happened, I realized I’d traveled driven two blocks while falling asleep.

The guilt and fear of knowing I could have hurt someone else…could have killed someone else…was the worst pain and trauma I experienced that day.

The “white truck” that hit me turned out to be a huge City Dump truck.

 

The truck hit my front right fender at an angle, heading towards the left rear of my car, tearing the compact car in half on a diagonal.  As the car splintered and folded in on itself, the supports stretched the roof of the car, pulling it lower.  My body jolted forward, clipping my nose on the rear view mirror, breaking a small bone in my nose while dislodging the rearview mirror from its place.  

Meanwhile, as the roof lowered and my head and body flew forward, the top of my head shredded the interior lining of the ceiling of the car until there was no padding left.  In turn, the unlined ceiling of the car ripped my scalp from my skull.  Although there was only internal bruising, it felt as if several internal organs had shattered into hard, sharp shards of glass inside of me – every movement causing me intense pain.

It took 50 internal stitches and 80 external stitches to repair my scalp; 130 stitches total.

I was released from the hospital ten hours later.

The next day, we went to see the remains of my car.  The passenger seat had been located ten yards away, we were told, and it was clear to see that the gas line was completely exposed.  It was absolute luck that it didn’t break or explode from the impact of the crash.  The tow yard workers looked at me in awe when they learned I was the driver.  Police and the tow yard employees had all assumed I’d be dead.

Those ten hours cost me $20,000.  Remember that new job I told you about?  My medical insurance didn’t kick in until Sunday, May 1^st.  Because my accident happened two days before that, I had no coverage.  I’m still working to pay it off.

So, why am I writing about this in a blog about weight loss?

Because that accident was how I learned I had weight-related sleep apnea.  It’s a condition where I stop breathing numerous times while sleeping.  The lack of oxygen causes my body to wake up to a point where I can breathe again, but this also disturbs the deep sleep a person needs to feel awake and refreshed the next day.

At a size 26/28, I was heavy enough that the weight of my fat was making it hard to breathe while I slept.  That is what caused the accident that could have hurt or killed people.

Furthermore, I was fat enough that the seatbelt didn’t fit me right.  My rotund belly would cause it to ride up until it was hitting my neck and choking me.  So, I had taken to wearing the shoulder restraining portion behind my back.  And this is the reason I flew so far forward that I broke my nose, was scalped and all my internal organs were so bruised.  Had I been thinner, I would have been wearing the seatbelt the correct way and could have avoided my injuries.

Believe it or not, I celebrate this day.  My family, friends and I called it my “Rebirthday”.

Why would we celebrate such an awful thing?

For one, I don’t want to ever forget.  Although I was undiagnosed, I made choices and mistakes that could have caused others their lives.  If circumstances had been different, I’d be in jail for vehicular manslaughter and I sure as hell wouldn’t be able to forget about it then.  Therefore, my good fortune doesn’t make me feel any less obliged to remember what happened.  It is a punishment, of sorts.  A constant reminder to make smarter, safer choices.

On the other hand, I’m alive.  I survived.  I’ve been reborn through the chaos of the wreckage.  No one else was injured, and all of that is cause for celebration.

You see, I’ve always believed in taking responsibility for your actions, which I do.  But that day was such a reminder of how very short life is, and that the best choice you can make on a daily basis is to acknowledge the things that make you happy.

Ten years ago today, I fell asleep while driving to work.

Now I’m at work, nervously and excitedly anticipating a life-altering surgery I will have in exactly two weeks’ time.

Preparing for another “rebirth” of sorts.  The birth of a thinner, healthier, even happier self.

Please be kind.