Okay so today was my 6 month post-op appointment. My surgery was on August 20.

As I parked my car and walked through the parking lot, I thought back to my first appointment with Dr. Rosenthal.  Bruce was with me and I was bitching and moaning about how far we had to walk (it’s really not far at all) and how ho itt was (it was April) and how tired I was.  Of course I was hot and tired. I was 330lbs and barely able to  move.  I thought about the day of surgery and although I was nervous, I was excited and anxious to move on with my life and the surgery was a way to do just that.

The surgery saved my life. I don’t mean to sound dramatic but it did. Just like so many of you, I want to tell the world about the surgery.  I am so grateful to my doctor, his staff and the program.

As I sat in the room and waited for the doctor, I lost it emotionally. I saw Bruce sitting in the room with me on the first appointment and how there was no chair so he was kind of perched on the red box where they throw needles or whatever.  I saw him in the surgical waiting with me, smiled and telling me he loved me and how I was going to do great.  Anyway, I met with my favorite nurse and fellow and both were thrilled with my progress. We talked about the program, what was going on with me (they knew about Bruce), etc.  According to their scale, I’m down 92 lbs and while they couldn’t be happier, you all know that I’m not that thrilled with my eating behaviors of late.

I met with the NUT who gave me the kick that I needed.  No more empty calories.  I am to incorporate good carbs and some fruit with my meals.  Always protein first though. She’s happy with my fluid intake and with my exercise. I can walk 4-5 miles at a time. Me!  No way could I have done that before the surgery.  

Most of my labs were fine. My folic acid was low, as was my Vitamin D,  so I need to take supplements. My HDL went up 10 points which I was happy about.  That exercise thing seems to be working!

While I don’t see the loss in the mirror, my clothes are getting smaller. Sizewise, I have gone from a 30/32 top to 18/20’s. I am wearing size 18 pants and the other day I squeezed in to a gorgeous pair of real jeans (not the stretchy kind) that Marcia gave me in a size 14!  On a daily basis though, I'm wearing 18/20 pants.  My shoes are loose and let’s not even talk about my rings.

I’ve had so many NSV’s the last few months and I know that there are many more to come. I have energy and that's the biggie for me. I don’t  have that awful exhausted feeling anymore. Those lowgrade sugar type headaches are gone.   I actually want to go walking. The mall. The park. The beach. Target. I’m happy when I’m moving my body.

I left feeling much better. Knowing that I can get back on track by using  this gift the right way, and that’s how I see it, as a gift.  My DH gave me this gift before he died and I’m determined to get back on track and use it the right way.  We had the surgery because we couldn’t get rid of the weight with “traditional” methods and we can with this. As long as we handle it with care and respect it.

Big hugs to all of you for always being there for me.

Stacey

Just some rambling. I haven't done that in while!

Almost forgot some NSVs I had while in NYC...

The seatbelt fit fine on the plane (JetBlue). No need for an extender.

I sat between my MIL and SIL and wasn't cramped in.

The tray table went down with no problems!

I dropped something on the floor on the plane and was able to bend down and pick it up without looking and feeling like a contortionist.

Such simple things, but things that only you all would understand.

Walking now is such a pleasure for me. I can walk 3 miles outside with no  problems. I actually look forward to walking. 

Running up and down the stairs in my house is no longer a chore. Left something upstairs? Run up and get it. Not a problem.  Before the surgery it was such and effort.

Friday I went walking on the boardwalk with a friend, because now I actually enjoy walking. It was an exhausting work week and it was nice to be outside.  We passed a 50's style diner and they were playing oldies and there were about half a dozen couples dancing. As I watched them, I thought how lucky they were to have each other all those years and wanted to tell them so. Of course I didn't. I just watched and thought how I could never get Bruce to do that on Friday night.  Too tired from work. Too stressed. Too late because he stayed late to finish something or go meet a client who didn't have a car or couldn't get to see him.  But that was Bruce. He loved what he did.

I went out to dinner with some friends last night and noticed an older, very overweight couple nearby. They appeared to be in their late 50's. I saw the fried appetizer come out, the entrees overflowing with food, the dessert. I wanted to scream at them, "don't do it. Stop" and tell them about Bruce and the sleeve and everything else, but of course I didn't. As I looked at them, I saw us, I thought of how many times Bruce and I ordered just like that.  The woman must have noticed me looking at her,k because she looked up and smiled at me.

I looked down at my plate. My friend and I shared something and of course he ate the majority of it.  I thought that never in a zillion years would Bruce and I have shared a meal. We shared everything else. Maybe if we shared more meals he'd still be here? He was unlucky. Unlucky to have the lousy family cardiac history he did. If only I could have gotten him for a checkup years ago. If only I could  have gotten  him to slow down. If only I insisted on October 14 that he was not ready to go home from the hospital.  If only if only if only....