KingsOtherHalf
After getting married and getting a little long in the tooth (southern saying for getting older), my husband and I realized that we both shared a love of food and we were both showing the results on our bodies. :) Food had always been an addiction of mine and sometimes of my husband's so he started looking into getting the roux-en-y surgery. I thought about it too even though I was leaning more towards having the lap band. I've always been a cautious person but I was kind of persuaded by the doc's office personnel to get the other surgery because in their experience, insurance companies were more likely to approve the roux-en-y instead of the lap band because of its more potent restriction when it comes to eating. She also told me that if I didn't get approved for the lap band, that they would not resubmit or redo paperwork to apply for the roux-en-y. Talk about pressure....
Heck, I don't like being told no...so anyone who knows me closely, knows that I was PEEVED. You could SEE it in my face. But Because my blood pressure started getting more and more out of control, I decided that since I was only 37 and on 7 different blood pressure meds, that it was probably wise to have the surgery before my husband and that I should have the roux-en-y for faster results. I went through all of the screenings, and found out that I have asthma. I also found out that I had the bacteria that causes ulcers in elevated levels so I had to take a antibiotics to cure it. After that, paperwork was submitted to BCBS of NC and then I received the approval and a surgery date. The first date I could get was the day after Thanksgiving (I was like, are you serious?) Again, anyone that knows me knew that for a food addict, Thanksgiving is the equivalent of the Superbowl for people who are big fans of football. LOL Do you really think I was going to do that shyt? LOL... Please excuse my vernacular... I lived a little time in the PJs and even though I work in Corporate America, the "ghetto" is still in me somewhere. So I chose the week AFTER Thanksgiving. Let me tell you, it was hard to not make it count...think of all the foods that Moms will cook on Thanksgiving and you'd eat so much that all you could do was sleep afterwards...My husband calls this "fat dreams". Yes, even though I've had surgery and exercise moderation when it comes to eating, I still on occasion have "fat dreams"...LOL
Well, on November 28th, 2006, my DH drove me down to Louisburg to check in at Franklin Regional Medical Center. Needless to say, I was nervous. Even though I had the faith of a mustard seed as my Father used to preach and I read about in my bible, I'd be lying to say that I still didn't have some fear and trepidation about going under anesthesia and letting someone "breathe" for me. But after thinking about it some more, if I had to leave this world, isn't it better to be asleep while doing it if you HAD to choose a way to die? No, I'm not morbid, just a realist at times. LOL Well, all I remember was someone sticking something in my I.V., then I remember someone telling me to countdown from 10. After a nice rest, I woke up to some pain I'd never experienced...all I could think was that this must be what it feels like when a person gets initiated or "jumped in" a gang..."West Si-i-i-i-ide!" LOL My face must have TOLD it all, a nurse handed me a morphine pump and said "hit this". She also instructed me to "hit this" when I felt that I needed to. I must be a punk because everytime I woke up, I would "hit this" until I passed out again. LOL Guess what? The next day, they took my little friend away and gave me some less addictive form of pain meds...it was not the same effect. I'm so glad that the grace of God has kept me from trying drugs all this time...I know I would have been "out there".
After I started to sip my liquids, I was told that I needed to start walking the halls. I was surprised that I could do this after such a major surgery but I did it. Then I was released on day 3 and sent home with prescriptions. The first week was a little rough, pain wise. I guess that is expected. I just kept taking my pain meds, sipping on strained egg drop soup at the prescribed times and sleeping so that I could recover. The next week, the pain got better and I was able to move about. On week 3, I was back at work.
My weight loss was on track until I contracted what turned out to be a GI Virus in February, followed by a strep throat infection. I honestly think that I returned to work too early. Those of you out there getting the surgery during flu season, try your best to stay home for your 6 weeks like the doctor recommends. I wish that I had but I felt pressure about staying out for that long because I had taken off 2 years before that to have my son. It seemed that I just kept getting weaker and weaker. I had to go to the emergency room several times because I couldn't keep anything down or in...(I know that is gross) and then I started having vision problems (which turned out to be vertigo because of an inner ear problem). I then noticed that I was getting clumsy because my legs kept giving out on me while walking. It took me falling down the stairs to get me admitted to the hospital for testing. I had a spinal tap, cat scans, you name it, all kinds of blood tests from MS to HIV. Finally, a nurse practitioner from my neurologist's office said "test her thyroid". Lo and behold, the levels were elevated. I had an overactive thyroid that caused me to lose 3 or more pounds a week and the body's way to feed itself was to eat away the quadricep muscles around and above my knee. I was just happy that they found out what was wrong and that it wasn't anything fatal or catastrophic. Well, it got so bad that I had to go to the rehabilitation center to learn how to use a wheelchair and build my muscles back up so that I can walk again. I fell a few times in there, I lost my pride too. I've never had a grown azz woman help me bathe, help me go to the bathroom, etc. I just cried in my bed. I am very independent and this was a HUMBLING experience.
To make what is a long story, short, I'm walking now with a cane but I'm stronger. My hair is growing back, my weight has leveled off some. I went from a size 20 to a size 11. I don't believe in wasting money so I refused to buy new clothes until my weight loss slowed down. I know I was looking bummy and like a crackhead for a while. LOL
My friends and family that have not seen me in a while are shocked. Some are even thinking of having surgery now after saying that "I'm taking the easy way out". I don't think a stint in rehab is an easy way out...feel me?
Well, I hope that I haven't scared any of you from having surgery. I'm just a story that probably should be on one of those weight loss shows and the things that COULD happen but are kind of rare. I think most people would notice the clumsiness earlier than I did and not let themselves "go down" so far to the point that they lose the ability to walk. I'm just not used to giving in to sickness...I'm "old school".
