WannaSexyTummy

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Okay, so I've received a couple of messages now, asking me to blog again, so I've decided it's time. See, initially, I was blogging for me - so I wouldn't forget...but then I went to this dark place, this place where I regretted having the surgery, where I could not be happy about the scale going down, because I'd screwed it all up. My entire life felt like it was over.

Most of those feelings came during the mushy phase. That phase SUCKS! Taco Bell pintos and cheese were a lifesaver, but man, did I get depressed! Better now that I can eat actual food, and getting better every day.

I'm down 37 pounds from my highest weight, 33.5 from the day of surgery. My pant size has dropped from a 18/20 to a comfy 16, and my shirts are getting smaller too (roughly a 2x to an xl). But...

I'm in a weird place. 2/3 of the time, I'm blissed out of my mind that I had the surgery. Then 1/3 of the time, I beat myself up for not having been strong enough to not have the surgery. It's weird. But I'm assuming that this too shall pass.

Confession time: I stopped taking my Prilosec, which resulted in ulcer-like pains this week. Called my surgeon's nurse, back on Prilosec now and feeling better. But stupid, stupid, stupid! ALWAYS take your neds. ALWAYS.

One more thing (which also explains the scatter-brain-ness of this post)....PMS sucks BIG TIME after surgery. Nothing helps. I'm in sooooo much pain. But....

My butt looks damn good.

Or maybe they did and I just didn't realize they meant I'd literally turn into a crazy person post-surgery. I guess I thought they just meant hormonal, like PMS or something. Nope. Turns out you seriously lose your mind afterwards.

But let's back up.

I showed up at the hospital early, got signed in, they called me back and told me they'd bring my husband back after they got my IV started. Several people visited me to ask me questions. The anesthesiologist was really sweet, told me that he'd done over 3000 of these things and no one had ever told him it was worse pain-wise than gallbladder surgery. He was sweet...but a LIAR! LOL! Holy crap. But anyway.

I was fine until my husbnad came into the room, then I started getting these weird, stupid, panicky feelings like I should run out of the room, not have the surgery at all. But he kept me sane and the nurses rolled me back into the surgery room. Another anesthesiologist put a shot in my IV and I felt loopy, then he put the mask over my face. What? The doctor wasn't even there yet! But okay...only after the third breath, I couldn't inhale, felt like I was choking. He said, "I know. I know. It's okay." and all I could think was "you don't know. I can't breathe and you don't know and I'm going to die." Then I woke up in recovery. My first thought was "OW". My second thought was "No way am I ever getting plastic surgery. That not-breathing thing and the OW are just too much. Besides, my hubby doesn't care if I look like a shar-pei--OWWWW!!!!" I laid there for a loooong time. From where I was, I could see a clock on the wall. It was a full two hours after I was supposed to be in my room. I wondered how freaked out my husband must be. Then the lady a few beds down and across started having serious troubles. Serious as in every nurse, every doctor ran over, closing all the curtains and shouting medical terms, yelling at the woman to breathe, breathe...for a weird moment, I wondered if that was really me and I was watching it from the outside. Then they pulled my curtain back again and eventually rolled me to my room.

My husband was there - we passed him in the hall. All I could think when I saw him was that I was so glad I lived long enough to see him again. He was sweet, told me he loved me. The day went by in a blur. I slept. After a while, my kids came to see me. They looked scared, but I was  so glad to see them. The oxygen tube in my nose scared them, I think. after a while, my family left, and again, I slept.

I was in the hospital for three months. It felt that way, anyway. In all actuality, it was only two nights. A blur of heparin shots, finger pokes, people talking. Then I came home.

My sister sent flowers. I carried them on my lap in the car. I thought being home would make me feel so much better.

But, weirdly, I feel stuck in a nightmare. Every day lasts a week. Every pain goes on forever. My surgery was Wednesday. Today is Sunday. I feel like I can't do anything on my own and this is the first time I've sat at my desk. The very thought of vitamins FOREVER, of eating right and exercising FOREVER, of doinbg the work that I knew I would have to do FOREVER spralls out before me and I can't stop crying. The doubts - the stupid doubts that the logical me understands is because of hormones and whatnot - twitch in my brain constantly. I did this to myself. and now I can never undo it. Way to go, girly. Way to be selfish.

But I know those thoughts  will go away in a few months, that reason will prevail. I'm glad I had the surgery. So, so glad.

I'm just looking forward to being sane again.

Here it is, 9am the day before surgery, exactly 24 hours before I'm due to check in at the hospital, and I am overwhelmed by so many emotions. I'm absolutely terrified to have the surgery, but can't really identify why. Mostly, though, I think I'm afraid. Of dying? Of complications? Oh no. I'm afraid of changing the way I live. I'm afraid of forcing myself to eat healthy. I'm afraid of the very thing that I've daydreamed about for so long, eating right and exercising.

How stupid is that?

Luckily, everyone tells me that's normal. It doesn't help to hear it, but the logical part of me, the part of me that is so tired of overeating, of not being able to put the damn fork down, takes comfort in knowing that I'm not the only one who's freaked out the day before surgery.

What will it be like? Will I have regrets? Will I break down weeping in the candy aisle? Will I get sick? Will I forget to take my vitamins? Will I really lose weight?

I'm dizzy just thinking about what lies in wait for me over the next few years.

And I'm scared. yes. This feels like such a selfish thing to do. I feel selfish. If I die during such a selfish operation, will my children forgive me? Ugh...this is so hard. I feel like the best thing to do is just put some temporary blinders on and get to the hospital. Once they give me a cocktail shot, I'm home free.

But for now, I'm scared.

I wrote my family a letter, laying out my funeral arrangements. I labeled it "just in case" and gave it to my husband.

I can't wait until I'm home again and can rip that letter to shreds.

I can't wait until I'm on the loser's bench.

I can't wait until I can bend over to tie my own shoes or walk up a flight of stairs without gasping for breath.

I can't wait until I don't have to fear diabetes or dying at a young age.

I can't wait to race my son in the park or ride bikes with my daughter.

I can't wait to learn how to ballroom dance with my husband.

I can't wait.

It's worth it. It's all worth it. I just have to keep telling myself that. And get to the damn hospital.

So I got up and went to my all day pre-op appointment today. Nurse Nancy talked to us all (there were about six of us) fpor a while about the surgery and changes we'll be facing. After that, Steve came in and talked about exercise, followed by this nutritionist lady. We broke for lunch - what a great group! I really liked them - and then we watched a DVD with Dr. de laTorre. Then we met him in person, then got our date! Nancy asked me when I'd like to have it done and when I said "as soon as possible", she joked  "have you eaten today?" LOL!

Then she gave me my date and sent me off to get an EKG, chest x-ray, breathing test and bloodwork.

I have one week. Just one week til my life begins anew.

I can hardly wait!!

My insurance letter finally got here yesterday - and I almost threw it in the garbage!

Okay, let me back up a bit. All weekend long, I was seriously stressing, worrying that the letter wouldn't come, or that UHC would change their mind on my approval. Ridiculous scenarios entered my imagination, but then yesterday I got the mail...

Two envelopes, one grocery store flier. Both envelopes looked like mass mailings. I tossed one in the trash and as I was about to throw the other out, I saw it was addressed to my husband (thought UHC was not listed on the return address). I opened it and there it was...my approval letter!!! I read it over twice and my husband took it to work to fax it into my surgeon's office this morning.

Then at 9am, my nurse, Nancy, called and told me that she has ONE opening in her next pre-op class, do I want it? Ummm...HELL YEAH!!! So I'm all signed up for my class on February 11th. It starts at 8-8:30am and ends at 5-5:30pm. A looooooooong class day. But one step closer to healthy and thin. I can't wait to get my surgery date!!!

Hubby's coming with me. He's such a supportive sweetheart.

Spoke to the coordinator at my surgeon's office. She said the date I was given was just a placeholder for the insurance company. So...once my letter gets here, I'm supposed to fax it to her, then I'll have a pre-op meeting, where I'll receive my actual date.

Bummed, but so, so happy I'll soon be on my way to healthy and thin!

I've been putting off calling my insurance company for days now. Finally got the guts to dial the number last Thursday, but the lady told me to call back Monday. So I put it off again, slipping into a depression on Monday that I couldn't shake. Finally got the nerve to call today and what do ya know? I was approved for surgery on Monday!

My husband couldn't believe how calm I was on the phone. The moment I hung up, I started crying. I just couldn't believe it! I'M GETTING A RNY ON FEBRUARY 16TH!!!!! My son (15 and such a sweetie) and I did a happy dance. I explained to my daughter (8) that mommy is having surgery on my tummy to make me more healthy. She shrugged and went back to her book - I realize she can't really comprehend what it means, but when I'm able to chase after her and ride a bike again, I'm sure she'll appreciate it. LOL!

Whoa. Me. On a bike. With a smaller butt and far less of a fear of Type 2 Diabetes. It boggles the mind.

I have so much to do to get ready. But for right now, I just want to sit here and grin.

I'm having surgery. ME! Surgery!!!