DeniseS
I had Lap. RNY on 2/16/04 performed by Dr. Scot Currie of THE WEIGHT LOSS CLINIC in Harrisburg, PA.
Why I chose to have surgery:
To avoid health problems related to obesity.
To be a wife and mother for many years to come
To enjoy all life has to offer as a woman in a free country with the world at my fingertips.
To enjoy seeing myself in a mirror and photographs
To shop at any store for clothing
To stop being a victim of good food
To be able to sit in any chair and cross my legs
I BEGIN TO PUT MY STORY INTO WORDS 5 MONTHS FOLLOWING MY SURGERY
I have been bigger or heavier than most people most of my life. I remember, quite vividly in my elementary school years, being taller than most of the boys in my class. I was childishly horrified when my partner for gym class square dancing was the male gym teacher, the only guy tall enough. I had feet larger than most kids and begun to menstruate at age 10. My brother is 10 1/2 months older than me, and in most pictures from our younger years, I am head and shoulders above him.
I was always pretty social and popular in school. I enjoyed my school years very much. I had many girl friends and was in long term relationships with boys during school. My social life was very rich with good friends throughout school.
At the age of 17 or 18 I began to have more control over my life, in turn more control over what I ate. I was able to drive and treat myself to the goodies that Beaver County had to offer.
D & G pizza, the Hot Dog Shoppe, Hanks and Jerry’s, just to name a few. I loved them all.
College brought more feeding freedom. I roomed with a lovely girl, Jamie, who also loved food. Our personal favorite was Chi-Chi’s in Erie. We frequented that joint a few times a week. We were a skilled pair at scraping coins together and searching for resources to fund our feast. It was fun being “away” at school and then coming home on weekends and breaks to see the family and the boyfriend. The boyfriend was a moron with little smarts. I thought I was in real, "grown up love". I lost my virginity to him and I was convinced our love was forever. He was also un supportive – SURPRISE! We ate bad things together. He got bigger, and still looked good. In the end, he made me feel bad about my weight and started to do things so I would break up with him. I kept hanging on to the thread that held us together. I dated the loser for 5 years. He finally ended it with me one night. We both realized that our love was all about looks and physical chemistry. He dragged my heart around until it was dead and black. Our breakup made me feel pretty lousy about myself. Of course, it took me a while to rebound. The food helped.
I had my weaknesses. Chips with French onion dip, pizza, brownies, nachos, coke were some of my favorite friends.
I never weighed myself and if it was unavoidable, like for a doctor's appointment, I’d be anxious about it all day. I never revealed my true weight to anyone. EVER. I still don't.
I guess my 20’s were a downward spiral. Few dates, little sex and little attention from men. I love men. I wanted a relationship and to have babies and to live happily ever after. I am pretty enough with a good head on my shoulders. If they could just get past my big body. Not happening. I spent some money and joined Optisystem, the liquid diet. It failed. I then did a local LIFE CHANGERS, only went 4 times. Later, when I relocated to Harrisburg, I joined LA weight loss. I found their very skinny counselors to be rude and unsupportive. I’d leave the support meetings and drive through Wendy’s for a biggie frosty. I’d total that whole mess at somewhere around $2,000.00.
I would sometimes try to make conscious good decisions, but the bad decisions seemed to be more powerful. Peanut M&M’s found their way into my heart and my grocery cart, without ever jumping off the shelf. I love those guys.
My parents are wonderful, loving people, who wanted me to be healthy and to look good. They taught me to be confident and smart. I love my family life. I’ve got an all-American athletic brother and a cute little sister. My brother is a wonderful man who does a great job in supporting his family. My sister is my best friend in a lot of ways. She is one of the most thoughtful people I know. My family loves me for the person I am. They don't want to lose me. My extended family is full of aunts who I love very much. They have been a big part of my life for as long as I can remember. I can tell them anything anytime. I have neices and nephews who I want to see grow up. I love my family with the whole of my heart. There’s me, the middle child with the weight problem. I got lecture after lecture. I grew to the point where I was bigger than my father. It had gotten out of control. I knew the family cardiac medical history, but chose to exclude myself from being a part of it.
I moved from my hometown to across the state to where I now live. I was sad to leave the only home I have ever known. I was also not in a position where I would have to validate my behavior to anyone, because 250 miles was a bit far for mom and dad to monitor my eating. I did not have to sneak anymore.
I experienced some typical embarrassing moments: having to leave the roller coaster because I did not fit into the seat. I was with friends and was simply mortified. I mention this event because it was just awful. Little kids saying, “hey look at the fat lady” and “why are you so fat?”. I hope my child never uses those words to describe another person. I've very often been in a room full of people and was easily the largest person there. I tried to blend in.
For years I have only been able to shop in 1 store at the mall. Have you seen their clothes lately? I don’t know who is designing that crap, but size 26/28 women should never, I repeat never wear crop tops or horizontal stripes. I couldn’t even weigh myself on typical household scales because they only went up to a certain weight. I love to shop, but found that I could not shop for things for myself in most stores. I was the shopping gopher. When I was with someone, they shopped and tried on and I ran for different sizes. Oh, Denise...see if they have a size 8 - what the hell is a size 8 (my inner thoughts) MY TURN WILL COME.
In the fall of 1998, I was just getting over a stupid relationship with an older man and I was lonely. He also was not afraid to point out that I needed to lose weight. Well - DUDE - you are a raging alcoholic and need some serious help. I did some online personals stuff. I was honest. I want to love and be loved and I am not a Victoria’s Secret model prospect. I probably never will be. I got some replies pretty quickly. I met 3 men. Bob, Dennis and Bill, in that order. I corresponded with them through e-mail and instant messaging. Bob and I met for breakfast and he had bad table manners, which drove me batty. Bill was REALLY good at eye contact. He stared at me and it freaked me out. I then reluctantly turned to Dennis, thinking "what do I have to lose?" I love instant messaging. We instant messaged each other for a couple of weeks until we decided to meet. Oh GOD, how can I lose 200 pounds quickly? Dennis seemed more real and sincere. Before I met Dennis I remember thinking, "He’ll look in the bookstore from the window, see me and turn the other way." Not the case. So, we met on October 31, 1998. We talked, made eye contact and got to know each other over the course of a few hours. When we parted, he gave me a hug that was sincere and sweet. When he said he'd call, he did. He had some experience with women and his most recent relationship left him hurting. He is a beautiful man with dear blue eyes. Dennis is thinnish or at least average in build. I was cautious. I was 29 and was dating for life. Sure, life is fun when you are dating. Large women do not date around, too many men are shallow. Would Dennis be the one? He told me he loved me after 7 days. The rest is history. He was in love with me, all of me. I loved everything about him. He comes from an intact family and has 5 older sisters. I managed to see a family photo, and noted that all sisters were nice looking and of average build, DAMN. Around the holidays of 1998 I met his entire family. They seemed receptive of my role in Dennis’ life and were very nice. I felt at ease and welcomed, thank goodness. His sisters welcomed me as the 6th sister. What a wonderful bunch of women. Dennis and I talked about marriage and family and got engaged in March 1999. We quickly set a wedding date of April 8, 2000. Wedding dress shopping is an experience like bathing suit shopping when you are a larger woman. Sure, the shop may stock larger sizes, only about 10 dresses to the 9000 in the entire store. I ended up luckily finding one in a store that fit me, like a glove. That meant that I could not get larger. Well, I did get larger and another size had to be ordered. I can happily say that 2 weeks before the wedding it got taken in. I then searched high and low for the appropriate foundation garments to hold it all together on the day all eyes would be on me. I wore control top panties, control top pantyhose, a girdle, a bustier and a minimizer bra. I could not breathe or sit. I thought I looked pretty and Dennis said I was the most beautiful woman in the world that day. Luckily the pictures turned out very well and the wedding was beautiful.
My new husband NEVER made me feel bad about myself or my weight. Sure, I was embarrassed to be naked. He was and still is a gentleman, making me feel beautiful and desireable. So I was married and in love and anxious to get pregnant. I got pregnant in August 2000 and quickly had a miscarriage. I got pregnant again in February 2001. Another unfortunate thing happened. Throughout my pregnancy, unless you knew me and knew I was pregnant, you really could not tell. I never needed maternity clothing. My wardrobe of stretch pants and big shirts supported my pregnancy. The scale in the OB/GYN office did not register high enough to get my weight in the last months of my pregnancy. Since the scale only went up to 350...I had to be...uh...more than that. The skinny nurse would say, "ok, how about we get weighed?!" I'd say, "how about not today!" They would look shocked. I had the ability to shock people sometimes. How embarrassing. The second love of my life, my Riley was born on November 16, 2001. It seemed to me as though my life changed the moment she was born. I had a c-section and when the doctor held her up for my first peek, she looked right at me. She was mine. An extension of me. I created her, with some help from my husband. She needed me at that moment and would need me for the next 50 years. I was falling in love with her and it was a powerful force. One I cannot really explain. The "mother lion" in me was quick to take over. I was the protector and I had to keep her safe. I started to think about how my choices would have a direct impact on her life, not just mine. I got so much joy out of watching my husband with my daughter. They love each other so much. They smile and giggle at each other. He can really make her laugh, the kind of laugh that makes others smile. I couldn't help but wonder... would I live long enough to see her walk? Start school? Graduate? Marry? Become a mom herself? I then had a strong desire to see all that happen, and MORE. It was around that time that some celebrities were getting attention for having had gastric bypass surgery. I was curious and wanted to get it done the very next day.
In March of 2002 Dennis' mother passed away after many years of suffering with her health. I only wish that I could have built more of a history or memory bank with her. I saw her 4 days before she passed when I took our daughter to visit her in the nursing home where she was being cared for. I remember her saying to me as we left, "Denise, you are a dream come true and a great daughter-in-law." I haven't heard those words since and I know that she is a woman who spoke her mind while being respectful and sincere at the same time. I regret that my daughter will have no first hand memories of her Grand mama. We will have to work hard to teach her about all the wonderful qualities her grandmother had.
It took me 2 years to get up the courage to talk to my family doctor. He agreed to a referral and I began the process in early summer 2003. I did not tell my husband. I’m not sure why, maybe scared, maybe embarrassed. I was going to my appointments with both the Weight Loss Clinic, the practice where the surgeon practices and my family doctor. There was a myriad of steps and hoops that needed addressed prior to surgery. I followed the regime and finally told my husband around Thanksgiving of 2003. He said he’d give his blessing and support my decision. I also told my family at about the same time. It was easier to tell them. I'm still not sure why. My entire family was supportive, which was a little surprising.
I had the bloodwork and gall bladder ultrasound and EGD and EKG and was medically cleared by my family doctor. Sometime in early December I heard that my insurance company had approved the controversial surgery and I just needed to wait for a surgery date, which was likely to be in January or February. On January 20, 2004, while out of town I got a call on my cell phone. No one ever calls my cell phone. It was the office saying that I could have February 16, 2004 if I wanted for my surgery. I was, at the time also involved in the process closely with a colleague. We were in the same place at the time and thought it may be nice to go through the surgery together and spend time in the hospital together. It did not work out and she was scheduled for 2/5/04.
When February rolled around I was thinking about “The Last Supper”. I was torn because of course I did not want to cook my last supper, I wanted someone to serve me and clean up after me. I wanted Chi-Chi’s, the Outback and The Olive Garden. So, that’s what I had, in that order, with The Olive Garden being the last real meal of my life. Chicken Marsala with a side of Linguine.
I also started to think about writing "The Letter". What if something happens to me on the table or after? Will those I love the most know how I feel and what I'd say? I did it, I wrote one letter, left it on the computer, knowing my husband would find it eventually. I was weepy when I first typed it and get weepy when I read it. The most important people in my life right now are my husband and my daughter, my parents, my sister and my brother and my other extended family and friends. They each have such wonderful gifts they have given me in my 35 years. It pains me greatly to even imagine not waking from surgery. I know it is a reality that some have faced. I am prepared to face it if I must. How will my husband and daughter fare without me? I can't bear to think of it.
The alarm clock went off at 4:30 am on February 16. My surgery date. My parents were in town to stay with my daughter. Dennis and I left for the hospital. We drove in silence. The hospital was still asleep with a few souls roaming around doing their pre-registration stuff along side of me. I pre-registered and then registered (still not knowing the difference) and got weighed. 339. I was then shown back to the prep area, where I shed my clothes for the finest hospital gown designer wear. I got to wear the support stockings on my legs with holes for my toes. The nurses were nice and were shooting questions at me from left and right. I got my IV and a shot of heparin. The nurse then fetched Dennis and he came back to sit with me as I nervously waited for it to happen. Some OR staff came over to say hi. They would be the ones wheeling me to my destiny. The anesthesiologist came by next. The same one on duty during my November 2001 C-section and EGD from 1 month ago. I then was greeted by my surgeon, Dr. Scot Currie. Dr. Currie is nice looking and kind of shy. He made me feel comfortable right away and was going to “scrub up”. He reminded me of our special date to take place in about 20 minutes. I started to tear up when the OR staff came to take me away. Dennis looked concerned too. He hates when I cry. He was able to walk with us for part of the way. We then parted ways, he holding “Patient Belongings” which contained my clothes, my purse, my wedding ring and a treasured photo of us with our daughter. He gave me one last kiss, told me he loved me and he’d see me in a few hours. I couldn’t speak. My memory of the next few moments goes something like this: I had an OR staff person driving at my feet and one at my head. They were kind and telling me that it would get seemingly colder after each turn of the corner. They were right. The Operating Room door was next and it was mighty chilly in there. They served me up with warm blankets. There had to be about 8 people in there. All I could see was their eyes. The anesthesiologist spoke first saying that he was about to administer the drug that would put me to sleep. I tried to make myself focus on the face of my daughter, burned in my brain. I just couldn't. I was gone..........
I woke in recovery about 2 ½ hours later. I was then taken to my room where Dennis was waiting, as promised. I remember he kissed me and I told him to go so I could sleep. He went home and sent my parents. I asked about Riley and don’t remember what they said. I told them to turn off the phone and to tell Dennis not to come back that evening, because I was out of it. I took a peek at my lap holes, and they looked sore, but did not really hurt too much. The insides hurt. Hospital staff came and went, emptying the urine from my catheter, emptying the drainage tube coming out of my abdomen and taking my vitals. The next day brought a flurry of activity. The catheter was removed and I was forced to get out of bed and walk. I did not enjoy moving. Everything hurt. I am not a back sleeper. I had to sleep on my back. I was a trooper. I had visits from my family during the day. My parents, my husband, my sisters-in-law and friends came by to cheer me on. My parents were going to take my daughter to their home 250 miles away and Dennis and I would join them after my hospital release. I got to see my daughter from my second floor hospital room window before she left. I was sad to see her go. I did not want her to see me in the hospital, because I don’t feel she would have been able to understand what was happening or why I could not hold her. The pain I endured was significant, but not disabling. I treated the ice chips I was allowed to eat like gold and diamonds. On the fourth day I got to drink this terribly metallic, sour liquid. I then got some type of x-ray to determine if I was sealed up tight inside and well enough to go home. I got to go home on Thursday, February 19. The drive home was agonizing. I felt each lunge and turn of the car. I cringed at every pothole.
Two days later, Dennis and I traveled to the home of my parents so we could be with our daughter. A bittersweet moment for mom’s everywhere. We walked in the front door and I could hear my parents with Riley upstairs talking. She was laughing and giggling, like they were playing a game. I called out, "Riley!" Silence...I then heard her walk toward the landing and then she saw me. My Riley cried when she saw me. It then made me and my mother cry. I did not want to let her go. I wasn't supposed to pick her up and hold her, so I got a chair and held her on my lap and cried into her hair. I missed her smell and the way her head fits into the crook of my neck. I guess toddler’s can miss their mommy’s and show joy when they are reunited through tears. Three generations of mommy’s cried that day. She did not let me out of her sight those next couple of days. I was off work for 2 weeks and travelled 5 hours to go to a funeral for my husband's uncle. It's tough to be on a liquid/soft food diet and be away from home and be in pain.
I was free from most major complications. About 3 weeks after surgery, I developed a seroma. My leftmost incision began to leak and I freaked out. I visited the hospital where I had surgery, where Dr. Currie was on rounds that day. His assistant came to check me out and incised my sore wound. It was gross. He re-cut my incision to drain it. Oh MY GOD!!! It hurt. My husband was sitting at the foot of the hospital bed and said he could see me curl my toes. Graphic alert: It felt like someone dumped a bottle of water on me, from all the blood and stuff that came out after he cut me. He then cleaned it and packed it and gave me some antibiotics. The wound remained open for another week and then resolved itself quickly.
So, now I write some 5 months following my gastric bypass surgery. It's pretty much been a walk in the park. I've lost around 80 pounds. My hair is falling out like crazy. It's everywhere in the house. In the sink, clogging the shower, in my toes when I walk across the carpet. I hope it ends soon. I love my thick, healthy hair. I enjoy all of the changes that have occurred in my life. I've given away clothes for the first time in my life that are too big. I have given away so many clothes that I have grown out of and I wish I had them back. I need them. My sewing machine is busy altering and taking in. I have never done that. I am tired today but overall I feel alive and energetic. I want to walk to the moon and hug the stars.
I want to encourage anyone contemplating surgery that this is a step to take. It is worth the risk. To me, it's worth knowing my chances of seeing my baby girl grow into a woman, living my life with my sweet husband by my side and having more children.
So, 6 months have passed and I've come a long way. I've lost just around 100 pounds and am pretty damned impressed with how good I feel and how different I look.
And for another update: January 3, 2005 ...
This is generally the time of year when people make and break new year's resolutions. Of course, losing weight was always a resolution. Last year it finally happened. Sure, I had to do something drastic like surgery, but it happened. From my highest weight ever to now, I have lost about 160 pounds. That's huge! I feel good. People closest to me are supportive and happy. I am thrilled to see myself. Life is Good.
May 16, 2005 - thanks for reading. I have just returned to work after having my gall bladder removed. In early April, I had an attack. Saw my PCP, had a gall bladder ultrasound and then went back to see Dr. Currie, who recommended I have my GB removed, after all, it is (was) packed with stones and sludge. "Great", I thought. luckily, this procedure was viewed as outpatient and I would most likely be home that night. Cool. I had surgery on April 26 and ended up staying the night at the same hospital as my bypass. Dr. Currie decided to keep me overnight because of the anesthesia after affects making me sick. I have two new holes on my abdomen and minimal pain over my belly button. No big deal.
I am down from an all time high weight of 370 to 205. Weight at time of surgery in February 2004 was 339.
If I can only get pregnant this year...
Well...even though this is early. I am pregnant. I took a home pregnancy test on June 22 and got a positive result. Early calculations tell me I am due on March 1, 2006. I'm nervous about this pregnancy and very hopeful. A new baby to love.
July 22, 2005 - still pregant. It is early. My excitement is huge. I have seen a CNM and had an ultrasound this morning. It's official. I got to see my little bean with his/her tiny beating heart. The baby even did a little wiggly dance for daddy and I. I got teary when I heard the swooshing of the heartbeat for the first time. I'm very tired and my breasts are sore. My OB prescribed pre-natal vitamins and said that this will be considered a high risk pregnancy due to my age - 37 at time of delivery. I don't care. Another 7 months to go.
November 9, 2005 - thanks for reading. I hope my story and journey have made you interested in seeking a surgical solution to your weight loss. My only regret is that I did not have it done sooner.
Yes, I'm still pregnant...I am 24 weeks pregnant. My husband and I have learned that we are welcoming a boy into our family sometime at the end of February. So far everything is going very well. I've gained 15 pounds total. Not of any concern to the doctor's.
December 27, 2005 - some recent turn of events over the past 1 1/2 months. I don't want to lose the specifics, so I will post them here. Presently I am 31 weeks pregnant with a boy. I am almost 2 years post -op. Until recently this pregnancy was uncomplicated. I'll start back in mid-November. During a car ride of about 250 miles, I fainted in the car, which I thought, at the time was me falling asleep because I was so tired. It happened the next day at work as well and I was treated and released from the emergency room with a diagnosis of dehydrated and pregnant. Fast forward to December 19 - I had spent the previous Saturday in NYC shopping, shopping, shopping. Again, while at work...I was sitting at my desk and turned away from the computer. I remember having a thought, "why am I so very tired?" BOOM. Next thing I know I am face down on the carpet and my boss is calling my name from what seems like miles away. I came to and was able to respond to her. I got up on my own and sat in my chair. I felt ok. I then got sick in my garbage can a few minutes later. I was taken to the hospital. I spent 2 hours in the ER and had a CAT scan and EEG. Both were normal. I was then shipped to Labor and Delivery where they could monitor the baby. The baby sounded great. He even had hiccups. The fetal monitor showed his heartrate to be normal. IT also showed some uterine irritability, possibly caused by bleeding of the placenta when I fell from my chair. I was visited by neurology and fetal medical specialists and my own OB/GYN. I was given magnesium sulfate and steriod shots to further develop the baby's lungs. I had a myriad of tests of my blood and urine. The doctor's were talking pre-eclampsya, eclampsya/toxemia. They were also preparing me for a pre-term delivery of the baby. After 2 1/2 days and inconclusive tests, I was discharged. My levels showed signs of dehydration. It is not certain if I had a seizure - although the neurologist thinks it sounds like a seizure. I have no history of seizures, even though my father has had 2 in his lifetime. Thank GOD I was at work and not driving my daughter around. I could have easily killed us or someone else. I'm trying to be careful and cautious. Watching my fluid intake and taking it easy. Life is nothing if it's not exciting.
February 22, 2006 - the birth of my son! I had a repeat c-section that went pretty well. It was kind of weird knowing the baby's birthdate before knowing the baby. I had been wondering what this day would be like. I worked until February 15 and then took the next several days off to prepare. I had not been sleeping well and was just physically uncomfortable. How did I do this 4 1/2 years ago and 170 pounds ago? We arrived at the hospital after bidding a sweet farewell from Riley. She knew that on this day, Nani and Papi would be taking her to school and mommy would be going to the hospital. I slept with her last night just to be close to her. I was nervous, but calm. Dennis and I had NO waiting this time. The L & D department must have been "slow". They took us back right away and two nurses that tended to me were pregnant also. It was a different prep room than the last time. Same procedures and endless questions, just making me antsy! I asked to walk to the OR, instead of wheelchair or gurney. I got nervous because Dennis wasn't with me. I sat on the edge of the operating table for the Spinal. The anesthesiologist "missed" and they had to do it again. The spinal was the worst part - it was the first time, too. I just wanted it all to start. A handful of nurses were getting me ready, two anesthesiologists and then the Dr.'s came in. Dr. Oken and CNM, Kathryn Kramer. Dennis was rounded up and he joined me, scrubs and all. He took his place to the left of my head. I asked them to move the basinnette, so I could see the baby better after birth. It began at approximately, 9:55. I remember looking at the clock. I looked right at the ceiling. I heard suctioning sounds, I heard people talking and what I most wanted to focus on was the first sounds of the baby. Alas, a big, big cry. Upon hearing that sound, my worrying ceased and I cried along with him. He was here! The long wait was over and my baby seems to have been born very healthy. After a failed attempt at a tubal ligation, I was in recovery. The only one in recovery. I was taken to my room at about 12:30. As I was being wheeled past the newborn nursery, my parents were there looking at the baby as he was receiving his first bath. He was loudly protesting! I wanted to be with the baby. He spent two days in the NICU with low Pulse OX levels, but was discharged to the newborn nursery with no further problems. At 10:12 am, my son entered the world to be with Dennis, Riley and I. He weighed 6 lb. 14 oz. and was 18 1/2 inches long. Little baby, compared to my 9 lb. 4.4 oz. Riley. My c-section was uneventful - except for my uterine abnormality. I was not able to get my tubes tied and have to think about birth control again. The second child has been challenging. I knew the first several weeks/months would be difficult. I was right. He's pretty pleasant and only really cries when he wants to eat or when I am changing his diaper. To think, I doubted my ability to love another child. I just can't stop kissing him and hugging him. I just want to hold him all the time.
