Monday will officially be three weeks post surgery! It's pretty well flown by, and now that I can eat soft foods (think egg salad, tuna, string cheese, etc) I'm feeling much better mentally. The liquid only and the pureed stage are hard. Not because I was physically hungry, but because I got so bored and I just wanted to CHEW something!
Of course, the downside to being on soft foods is that last week I barely lost any weight. I know that it has more to do with my body going through a trauma than it does with what I'm eating, but it was frustrating. I'm nervous to weigh in on Monday, because what if I'm still stalled? There's a site called BariatricPal, which is a wonderful resource by the way, and at least half the posts I see are about stalls. While I know that it won't last forever and that as long as I'm following my plan my body will too, it's also nice to know that I'm not alone.
The funny thing is, at this point in any other diet attempt, I might have thrown up my hands. I'd have given up and gone back to eating whatever I want. I'm really glad I now have this tool that forces me to stay the course, even through this frustration. Of course, it's not a magic cure. I know there are ways that I could cheat. I could probably have all the ice cream I want and it wouldn't hurt or bother my sleeve. But I'm not going to. I'm going to continue to follow the plan, get in my protein and my water, continue walking with my mom, and the weight will come off. I don't want to waste this chance I've been given to totally reset my habits.
Saturday, March 11, 2017
Friday, March 3, 2017
11 Days Post Surgery
I knew I was going to be terrible at this blogging thing.
I had every intention of posting the day of or the day after surgery, but honestly I didn't feel up to it. The day of surgery, I got to the hospital an hour and a half before my scheduled time for all the intake stuff. The benefit of having my sleeve done at a small hospital is that I walked right in, and after I signed a couple of forms they took me right back. I didn't have to wait around much.
I changed into the gown (feeling super awkward about my butt hanging out) and then the nurse came in and started my iv, got some medications going, etc. My surgeon flew in, asked if I was ready and if I had any last minute questions, then prayed with me. I have no idea how he gets away with that, but I loved it. It definitely gave me a calm feeling. He left just as quickly as he came, I think he spent a total of two minutes in there.
After that, anesthesiologist stopped in to introduce himself and answer any questions I had. The dude was handsome, he looked kind of like a real life Ken doll. He left and it was just a few minutes until a nurse and the anesthesiologist's assistant came to wheel me into surgery. I triple checked that my mom was going to have my purse with her (I think she was getting a bit irritated by that, honestly), and then they took me back.
The next thing I remember, I was waking up in recovery. It HURT. The gas pain, right under my ribs, was insane. It felt like they had stuffed an elephant in my chest, there was so much pressure. Unfortunately, there wasn't really anything they could give me that would help the gas pain. I later found out that I was wearing an abdominal binder, and once I realized that I realized how tight it was. I wonder if taking that off would have helped the pain, given it more space or something, but it hardly matters now. I took off the binder eventually, because it just wasn't comfortable.
I must have drifted off again between recovery and my room, because I don't remember moving. All of a sudden my mom was there and I was in a nice big, private room. I still felt like garbage, but my nurse was wonderful. I was up and walking probably an hour after I got to my room. My mom was annoyed (as was I) because I was technically a "fall risk" and therefore I had to have hospital staff assist me any time I wanted to get up and move around. I also had to wear these sleeves on my calves that constantly massaged them, to prevent blood clots. I actually didn't mind that part, it felt kind of nice.
I spent the rest of the day dozing, walking, and watching tv. I had a popsicle, and some ice chips. There was an awkward moment at one point when volunteers came around with their therapy dogs, and one of them happened to be a coworker of mine. I got over it pretty quick, though, because I'm a dog freak. My mom left around 8, and I got back into the hospital bed to sleep.
That's when it all went to hell. There was a shift change, and I didn't like my new nurse. She wasn't very on top of pain medication, and even though the pain wasn't terrible I was still put off by it. Then, I'm not sure if it was the gas or pain, but I started vomiting. A lot. It lasted off an on all night. I was so worried they were going to force me to stay another day, when all I wanted was to get out and be in my own house. They didn't seem overly concerned, in fact even telling my nurse that I sometimes threw up in reaction to pain didn't really spur her to be more on top of it.
In the morning, I started to feel a little better, but I was still dry heaving more than I wanted to be. They gave me some protein drink, and some water, and told me to sip on it. They didn't tell me at first that my release would depend on how much I could drink/keep down. When I asked at around 10:30 am when I could go home, the nurse looked skeptically at the protein drink and told me I needed to have more of it. So I tried, oh I tried. It was hard. Not that I was nauseous, just so full and not at all interested in foodstuff.
Finally, around noon, they released me. I just knew that if I could get home and be free to move about as I pleased, that the heaving would stop. My mom drove me to my house, even though she was dying to take me to hers, and left for a while so that I could sleep. She ran a few errands and then came back to check on me, and then I pretty much kicked her out. I felt bad about it, but when I feel gross all I ever want is to be alone.
That first day home I mostly slept. I got up about once every hour and walked around, and attempted to drink some protein/water, but I didn't force it. Sleeping that night was awful. I'm a side and stomach sleeper, and I couldn't do either, so I wasn't comfortable at all.
Over the next few days it got better and better. It took a bit to find a balance between drinking water and and making sure I got enough protein, but I found it and it got easier. Honestly, while I wasn't ready to go back to work, I wished I was. It was a boring week. I don't understand how some people take two, four, even six weeks off work for this surgery. After one week I was ready to go back. I'll admit, it was exhausting the first few days, especially since I had to do story time (I'm a youth librarian) on Tuesday and Wednesday. But tonight is Friday and I no longer feel like I want to crawl into bed the second I get home.
On Thursday I had my post-surgical follow up appointment. I'm down 17 pounds! Also, the dietician advanced me to "smooth" food, basically anything of a pureed consistency. Greek yogurt, hummus, cottage cheese, etc. I was THRILLED to move on from a purely liquid diet. It got old, fast. So far it's gone really well too. Much better than I expected, at any rate, though it's only been a day.
I think that's enough rambling for now.
Goodnight!
SW: 273
CW: 255
I had every intention of posting the day of or the day after surgery, but honestly I didn't feel up to it. The day of surgery, I got to the hospital an hour and a half before my scheduled time for all the intake stuff. The benefit of having my sleeve done at a small hospital is that I walked right in, and after I signed a couple of forms they took me right back. I didn't have to wait around much.
I changed into the gown (feeling super awkward about my butt hanging out) and then the nurse came in and started my iv, got some medications going, etc. My surgeon flew in, asked if I was ready and if I had any last minute questions, then prayed with me. I have no idea how he gets away with that, but I loved it. It definitely gave me a calm feeling. He left just as quickly as he came, I think he spent a total of two minutes in there.
After that, anesthesiologist stopped in to introduce himself and answer any questions I had. The dude was handsome, he looked kind of like a real life Ken doll. He left and it was just a few minutes until a nurse and the anesthesiologist's assistant came to wheel me into surgery. I triple checked that my mom was going to have my purse with her (I think she was getting a bit irritated by that, honestly), and then they took me back.
The next thing I remember, I was waking up in recovery. It HURT. The gas pain, right under my ribs, was insane. It felt like they had stuffed an elephant in my chest, there was so much pressure. Unfortunately, there wasn't really anything they could give me that would help the gas pain. I later found out that I was wearing an abdominal binder, and once I realized that I realized how tight it was. I wonder if taking that off would have helped the pain, given it more space or something, but it hardly matters now. I took off the binder eventually, because it just wasn't comfortable.
I must have drifted off again between recovery and my room, because I don't remember moving. All of a sudden my mom was there and I was in a nice big, private room. I still felt like garbage, but my nurse was wonderful. I was up and walking probably an hour after I got to my room. My mom was annoyed (as was I) because I was technically a "fall risk" and therefore I had to have hospital staff assist me any time I wanted to get up and move around. I also had to wear these sleeves on my calves that constantly massaged them, to prevent blood clots. I actually didn't mind that part, it felt kind of nice.
I spent the rest of the day dozing, walking, and watching tv. I had a popsicle, and some ice chips. There was an awkward moment at one point when volunteers came around with their therapy dogs, and one of them happened to be a coworker of mine. I got over it pretty quick, though, because I'm a dog freak. My mom left around 8, and I got back into the hospital bed to sleep.
That's when it all went to hell. There was a shift change, and I didn't like my new nurse. She wasn't very on top of pain medication, and even though the pain wasn't terrible I was still put off by it. Then, I'm not sure if it was the gas or pain, but I started vomiting. A lot. It lasted off an on all night. I was so worried they were going to force me to stay another day, when all I wanted was to get out and be in my own house. They didn't seem overly concerned, in fact even telling my nurse that I sometimes threw up in reaction to pain didn't really spur her to be more on top of it.
In the morning, I started to feel a little better, but I was still dry heaving more than I wanted to be. They gave me some protein drink, and some water, and told me to sip on it. They didn't tell me at first that my release would depend on how much I could drink/keep down. When I asked at around 10:30 am when I could go home, the nurse looked skeptically at the protein drink and told me I needed to have more of it. So I tried, oh I tried. It was hard. Not that I was nauseous, just so full and not at all interested in foodstuff.
Finally, around noon, they released me. I just knew that if I could get home and be free to move about as I pleased, that the heaving would stop. My mom drove me to my house, even though she was dying to take me to hers, and left for a while so that I could sleep. She ran a few errands and then came back to check on me, and then I pretty much kicked her out. I felt bad about it, but when I feel gross all I ever want is to be alone.
That first day home I mostly slept. I got up about once every hour and walked around, and attempted to drink some protein/water, but I didn't force it. Sleeping that night was awful. I'm a side and stomach sleeper, and I couldn't do either, so I wasn't comfortable at all.
Over the next few days it got better and better. It took a bit to find a balance between drinking water and and making sure I got enough protein, but I found it and it got easier. Honestly, while I wasn't ready to go back to work, I wished I was. It was a boring week. I don't understand how some people take two, four, even six weeks off work for this surgery. After one week I was ready to go back. I'll admit, it was exhausting the first few days, especially since I had to do story time (I'm a youth librarian) on Tuesday and Wednesday. But tonight is Friday and I no longer feel like I want to crawl into bed the second I get home.
On Thursday I had my post-surgical follow up appointment. I'm down 17 pounds! Also, the dietician advanced me to "smooth" food, basically anything of a pureed consistency. Greek yogurt, hummus, cottage cheese, etc. I was THRILLED to move on from a purely liquid diet. It got old, fast. So far it's gone really well too. Much better than I expected, at any rate, though it's only been a day.
I think that's enough rambling for now.
Goodnight!
SW: 273
CW: 255
Saturday, February 18, 2017
Here we go!
I'm having surgery in about 43 hours, so I suppose if I want to blog about my experience, I'd better get to it. So...
Welcome to my blog! This is really just a way to chronicle my attempt to get healthy with the help of gastric sleeve surgery. A way to process my thoughts on the journey, and maybe help someone else along the way.
I know that gastric sleeve surgery sounds extreme to people. I told a friend, someone I see socially a lot and would notice if I suddenly stopped eating very much, and while she was very supportive, I saw that split second of shock. Her eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open. She was stunned. I haven't been very open with my coworkers or friends about my surgery for just that reason. I don't want to have to explain myself, my reasons for seeking such a "drastic" solution to a problem that most of the people I'd be telling will never understand.
I will explain myself here though, in the interest of full disclosure. I want to be open here, in a way I don't feel I can be with people I know.
I've struggled with my weight for as long as I can remember. In retrospect, I wasn't all that heavy as a teen. I wasn't thin, certainly, but I was an athlete and I was healthy. I felt fat though. College was where I really started to put weight on. I was no longer the dedicated athlete I'd been, and I had access to tons of unhealthy food. Plus late night binges with friends. Plus alcohol. I don't know how much weight I gained my freshman yet, but it was probably a good two pant sizes. The pattern continued until I was a hundred pounds heavier than I'd been at my high school graduation.
I've tried everything over the last decade to lose that weight. Good old diet and exercise, which thin people seem to think is the only miracle cure you could ever need. I'd lose a few pounds, maybe fifteen, twenty if I was really lucky, but then the scale would stop moving, no matter what. I had my thyroid tested because it was so incredibly difficult to lose weight, but the doctor said it was fine. I tried Jenny Craig. I tried a medically supervised, very low calorie diet. And, I'm not proud to say it, I tried my share of unhealthy options, like juice and water fasts. I was just so desperate to see something work.
I'd given up hope, resigned myself to a life of obesity, when my dad started the process to have weight loss surgery. He'd had a heart attack years ago, and arrhythmia, and his doctor was pretty insistent that this was a last ditch effort to save his life. The closer he got to surgery, the more he thought it would be a good path for me. I'd never really considered it before. To be honest, I didn't think I was fat enough.
Through a lot of research and consultation, I realized that it wasn't a drastic choice, at least not as drastic as some people believe it to be. Nor is it a miracle cure. It still takes a lot of hard work and dedication, and it's really more of a tool than a cure. Now here I am, 43 hours from sleeve gastrectomy surgery and a brave new world. That's glossing over the process, of course, but that can be another post for another day.
For now, wish me luck.
Start Weight: 273
Current Weight: 273
Welcome to my blog! This is really just a way to chronicle my attempt to get healthy with the help of gastric sleeve surgery. A way to process my thoughts on the journey, and maybe help someone else along the way.
I know that gastric sleeve surgery sounds extreme to people. I told a friend, someone I see socially a lot and would notice if I suddenly stopped eating very much, and while she was very supportive, I saw that split second of shock. Her eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open. She was stunned. I haven't been very open with my coworkers or friends about my surgery for just that reason. I don't want to have to explain myself, my reasons for seeking such a "drastic" solution to a problem that most of the people I'd be telling will never understand.
I will explain myself here though, in the interest of full disclosure. I want to be open here, in a way I don't feel I can be with people I know.
I've struggled with my weight for as long as I can remember. In retrospect, I wasn't all that heavy as a teen. I wasn't thin, certainly, but I was an athlete and I was healthy. I felt fat though. College was where I really started to put weight on. I was no longer the dedicated athlete I'd been, and I had access to tons of unhealthy food. Plus late night binges with friends. Plus alcohol. I don't know how much weight I gained my freshman yet, but it was probably a good two pant sizes. The pattern continued until I was a hundred pounds heavier than I'd been at my high school graduation.
I've tried everything over the last decade to lose that weight. Good old diet and exercise, which thin people seem to think is the only miracle cure you could ever need. I'd lose a few pounds, maybe fifteen, twenty if I was really lucky, but then the scale would stop moving, no matter what. I had my thyroid tested because it was so incredibly difficult to lose weight, but the doctor said it was fine. I tried Jenny Craig. I tried a medically supervised, very low calorie diet. And, I'm not proud to say it, I tried my share of unhealthy options, like juice and water fasts. I was just so desperate to see something work.
I'd given up hope, resigned myself to a life of obesity, when my dad started the process to have weight loss surgery. He'd had a heart attack years ago, and arrhythmia, and his doctor was pretty insistent that this was a last ditch effort to save his life. The closer he got to surgery, the more he thought it would be a good path for me. I'd never really considered it before. To be honest, I didn't think I was fat enough.
Through a lot of research and consultation, I realized that it wasn't a drastic choice, at least not as drastic as some people believe it to be. Nor is it a miracle cure. It still takes a lot of hard work and dedication, and it's really more of a tool than a cure. Now here I am, 43 hours from sleeve gastrectomy surgery and a brave new world. That's glossing over the process, of course, but that can be another post for another day.
For now, wish me luck.
Start Weight: 273
Current Weight: 273
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