MelRose
Oct. 18, 2005
So, the Slut Boots were a hit...no surprise. :) And the evening was a lovely and perfect way to remember Matthew's uncle-- tremendous people, lots of laughter, and great food.
Yeah, um...okay, so that last part was a problem. I reallllly should have known better than to put myself in a situation where I was surrounded by people eating, much less to put myself in a situation where I was surrounded by a LOT of people eating A LOT of REALLY GOOD food. Bad choice.
We were in a nice local seafood place that I'd been to a few times before. I know the food is very good and beautifully presented, and I thought I was prepared for it. I'd checked the menu out ahead of time, made sure to drink a good filling protein drink before we went, and planned to order the French Onion soup (without the bread and cheese on it) and just sip the broth during the meal. But until I was face to face with 13 other plates of gorgeous appetizers followed by 13 plates of gorgeous dinners, I had no idea how unprepared I really was. So much Head Hunger was lurking there under the surface, and with the first round of plates, the monster reared it's ugly head and totally took over. The smells, the colors, the *sounds* of people biting into their food, the looks of appreciation on their faces as they took that first bite. Wow-- total sensory overload. And all I could do was take tiny sips of soup (which was, indeed, very tasty and a welcome alternative to all of the protein drinks) and try not to look. Futile, that...I couldn't not look.
I guess the good thing that came out of that was twofold: A.) I learned my limit in a BIG way. (ie-- don't put yourself in temptation's path until you are at LEAST allowed to eat solid food for a while.) and B.) I realized that it wasn't the bad-for-me stuff that I was coveting. The cake really did nothing for me, and I could have cared less about the
the fried olives with feta. It was the heirloom tomato salad with grilled gulf prawns on it and the ahi tartare and the panseared halibut with wild mushrooms that got me. And you know what? In a couple of months, I'll be able to eat all of those things. (Well, officially I'll have to wait for the tomatoes to come back next season, but you get my drift.) So-- thus far, no real sugar or fat cravings....just good, colorful, interestingly textured REAL food. That's doable...just PLEASE don't invite me out to a restaurant until after November 22, okay?? :)
(Oh Good GOD-- I just realized that I'll finally be completely back on solid foods about three days before Thanksgiving... DANGER WILL ROBINSON!!)
Oct. 17, 2005
I think there was a little bad-ass renegade gas-bubble hanging out in my thorasic cavity last night. You know the type--a bandana and an eye patch, wicked sharp switchblade and an attitude that says "Hey-- are you tawkin ta *ME???*" Anyway, he doing a pretty good imitation of a pin ball ricocheting around my innards and stabbing at will. I got up around 2:30 to use the "facilities" and when I got back into bed, I was immediately greeted with a horrendously sharp pain under the back side of my rib cage. Scared the bejeezus out of me for a second...anyone who has recently undergone major surgery and been terrified by the Big Bad Clot Monster stories will know what I mean. And it got worse if I breathed deeply, so for a few seconds, I was in full panic mode...not to mention WIDE awake. Then I realized that the pain was moving around...under my ribs, up to my shoulder, then down into my gut. And the low-belly-grumblies were there in full force, telling me that my system was, indeed, in full motion. "Okay...all right...get a grip. Matthew didn't just stab you with a kitchen knife; your kidneys haven't exploded because you just peed perfectly normally; the alien that infected you on the spaceship last week isn't due to become mature for at LEAST another three days. So what the hell just happened??" SO-- up I got to go take some Maalox and see if I could wait it out. Which I did, sort of. It got better slowly, but not completely. So at about 4:00 am, I went to take some Lortab and go back to bed. It helped, knocked me out, and I actually slept until nearly 10:00 this morning. I feel much better today. Very nearly back to pre-op normal, in fact. I'm still a bit tight around the middle, and I get a twinge of soreness in my muscles if I move too quickly. And I know there are still some of that bad-ass's little friends lurking around in there waiting to unleash hell, but all told? Good stuff.
So good, in fact, that I'm planning on attending a party this evening for my first non-walking-around-the-block venture out of the house since my surgery. It'll be a fairly mellow gathering-- a memorial, in fact, for my boyfriend's uncle who passed away last month. But there will be several good friends and family members there and much laughter, which
is always a good thing. And laughing doesn't hurt anymore, so even better! I'll even be wearing a skirt (that I haven't been able to wear in several months--whoohoo!) and makeup for the first time in 2 weeks. I know that doesn't seem like much for most people, but you need to understand that I spend every day in skirts and makeup for work...and, I'm really pretty girly that way, so I *like* to do it. I'm EVEN
contemplating wearing my very sassy high heeled "slut boots" (as my mother-- WHO GAVE THEM TO ME-- likes to call them). This will be a gathering of many fabulous gay men, so I need to be as sassy as possible to keep up with them and the boots ALWAYS help. :) But they are a bit much sometimes wandering our famous hills, so I'll have to see I'm ready for fashion over function.
In other musings, I was reading through some of the Duodenal Switch messageboard yesterday to get a handle on what other post-ops eat and think about, and I found myself a little appalled at the vociferousness of some of the folks there who feel that their way is the only way. There are several different surgeries and not a single one of them is right for everybody. But many of the DS folks just seem to be rampagingly evangelical about the whole thing. I'm reading about how some post ops are back to living on exactly what got them into trouble in the first place: fast food, processed-from a-box-dinners, shmancy 800-calorie starbucks drinks...all the while merrily thinking that it's okay because they aren't absorbing it so who cares? YOUR BODY CARES. And in a few years, if you keep abusing it, it will let you know in no uncertain terms that you didn't treat it properly.
The quote that summed it all up for me was "Why would you go through surgery just to get the VSG and not go all the way? If you get just the VSG, you have to follow a low-fat low-carb regimen for life...what fun is that??" Oooh, that irked me. VSG-ers are NOT in a position where they can never again eat anything "fun." But we do have to take better care of ourselves on a daily basis and reserve the "fun" to small amounts and special occasions. I don't care if you're not absorbing all of the calories you eat...if you regularly put junk in there, you are destroying your overall health. You may be thin, but your body is suffering in lots of other ways from the substandard fuel. We NEED to pay attention to the rest of the big picture. In fact-- it's kind of the point in doing this at all. In that way, I think we're the luckiest of all WLS patients: We get to learn how to take care of ourselves in every way. We get to discover how to treat ourselves with respect. We get to figure out how to truly cope with our issues instead of using food to cover them up. This isn't just about weight loss here, folks...it's about living a long healthy life and giving yourself a chance to really thrive. I'm *glad* I have to pay more attention. It makes me and my choices a vital part of the process as opposed to just a bit-player in the story of my own health.
We divas have never been much good at playing bit-roles, anyway. ;)
Oct. 15, 2005
(a la Eliza Dolittle) "I feel giddy...oh so giddy..." And no, I'm not wacked out on any chemical substances!
I turned a major corner last night. I feel light years better today! I was having some pretty bad abdominal pain yesterday...couldn't stand up straight and couldn't sneeze or take a deep breath without doubling over. Worrisome, that. But then I remembered two things: A.) They had to do a fair amount more digging around in me because my "really big
stomach" was attached somewhat to other innards, and B.) I have PAIN MEDS! I hadn't taken any since I first got home... I don't know why. Foolish pride, maybe? "I can tough it out... I am woman hear me roar!" Blah blah blah. Plus-- Lortab tastes vile. However, we had a chat with
ourself and said "Self, get over yourself." And then took the drugs as we headed our newly chastized self to bed. (How many of us are living in there? Hard to say....)
Well, "smack my ass and call me Judy!" Amazing how pain is less of an issue when you have less pain! That sounds idiotic, but let me 'splain: Getting rid of a good deal of the pain let me sleep better and lessen the clenching of the muscles that were always prepared to be in pain. So this morning, I was less tight, more relaxed and in so much less
pain. And the lortab had definitely worn off by then...it was just that I had less pain because I'd *been* in less pain. Make sense? Probably not. I often don't make any sense except in my own head. Anyway, this is not to say that I'm at 100%, but this is doable. This is a breeze. I just went for a walk at my normal pace (as opposed to shuffling along
like a little old lady) for 20 mins and felt great! I wanted to go longer, but i remembered what happened to me last time I pushed it in the hospital, so I kept that impulse in check, and I'll go out again later. Twice, maybe, if I'm feeling particularly frisky. Depends on which of the many selves wins out. (Okay, I'm done with the schizophrenia...moving right along.)
I've never had any doubts that this was the right move for me (okay, okay, maybe for a couple of hours in the hospital when i felt like poo-on-a-shoe). But today I feel positively buoyant. As though I've finally stopped struggling against the pounding surf and riptides of the Pacific ocean and I'm now floating happily in the warm cocoon of the Caribbean.
I was reading through a terrific cookbook I bought called Eating Well After Weight Loss Surgery by Patt Levine and Michele Bontempo-Saray. I kept envisioning cooking high quality, healthy, tasty, this-is-NOT-diet-food for my friends and family and having them love it! (Then I envisioned doing a little dance around the kitchen because I was so happy about that, but that was a rather disturbing image...) If you like interesting, somewhat exotic and NOT-kraft-in-a-box food, I HIGHLY recommend checking out this book.
In other, more mundane news, I've been just fine with the
liquids/protein ratio. it took a day or so to get the rhythm down and figure out just how long it would take me to get it all in, but i've got it down now.
And I've already had my first of what many people on these boards call "Wow moments". I realized yesterday as I was logging my intake on the MDpostop site that while I actually took in plenty of liquids and protein, I hadn't taken in quite enough calories. I HADN'T EATEN ENOUGH CALORIES!! I had to go drink a 1/2 cup of milk before i went to bed just to get myself up to 400 calories for the day. What sweet madness is this??
What a ride, folks...
Oct. 13, 2005
It's just barely Oct. 13, actually. 2:45 am and I just can't stay in bed in that position anymore. Everything is aching or rumbling at the moment, so I felt like I really needed to get up and maybe get in a few more ounces of liquid. I'm only a day and half post op, so I know that I'm still full of IV fluids and not really at risk for serious dehydration, but I'm not taking any chances. At the very least, anyway, I really wanted to get up and do *something* to take my mind off of my body.
Funny, that-- my mind has been focused on very little *but* my body of late. Though writing about it now isn't really taking my mind off of it, now, is it? :) I guess it's just a cerebral way to focus on it instead of laying there feeling how much I ache or trying like hell to take deep breaths. Plus, after so many warnings of blood clots if I don't walk enough or breathe deeply enough, I just can't lay still for very long yet, I suppose. I fell asleep at 7:30, slept for a few hours, and finally decided to just get out of bed and do something else.
So-- I did it. I can't believe I did it! It was such a long shot for so many months...I guess there was some part of me that figured it still might all fall apart. And when I woke up in recovery, I just kept thinking "Did that just really happen? Did I really just let somebody remove over 90% of my stomach and change my life forever?" And then I tried to move and said "Yup, I really did." and then "Oh, shit."
The first day is hell for everyone. My surgery was scheduled for 10:30 am, but it was pushed back to the afternoon since something went kerflewy with the guy before me, so I wasn't out of recovery until about 4:15. My family wasn't warned that I had gone in so late, so they were a bit freaked thinking that the surgery I assured them was only about an hour and half long was taking nearly 4 hours. But when all was said and done, (aside from the fact that I'm a really difficult stick, IV wise, so my everything went in the back of my left hand-OUCH) my surgery went very smoothly... Dr. Cirangle seemed very proud of his work. He came into see me that night and told me "You know, your stomach was really big." (No! Say it isn't so! How do you think I got here?? Sheesh. ;) ) But I guess it was quite large in comparison, and had extended down and backwards to the point where it was attached somewhat to my spleen and diaphragm. Yipes! So I'm now left with a --ready for this?-- *2 ounce capacity*. My stomach is about the length of my index finger and even a tad more narrow. I'm still trying to visualize that...I can't quite get there yet. Though, believe me, it lets me know in no uncertain terms when it is unhappy. Small in stature, mayhap, but it has a hell of a forceful personality. :)
I was up and walking around by 5:30. Just one lap, very slowly, around the nurses station, but it felt good to move. Though I got pretty nauseated when I sat up for the first time. And the time after that. And, yes, the time after that. Lemme tell you, when you've had nothing but a few ice chips in your system for 24 hours, there isn't much there to get rid of. So-- that was a treat. But the nurses were great, and
Matthew was there taking care of me the whole time. (He stayed on a cot in my room.) I'll tell you, I don't think I could have gotten through that first day without him. He was a godsend...always ready to rub my back, dig my chapstick out of my bag, get a cool washcloth for my head or just hold my hand and tell me how much he loved me and how proud he was of me for seeing this through. I have the best man in the world at my side. And I didn't know that before, (which, of course, I did) I sure as hell know it now.
Nausea aside, I was doing quite well that first day. Up and walking three times in those first 6 hours. I used the pain pump just a couple of times before I realized that morphine was doing very little for me except making my body leaden, but not enough to get me to sleep and not really taking care of the pain. SO-- why bother? The swing shift nurse came in and gave me Tordol at 11:00, and that helped much more. She was a very sweet woman by the name of Victoria who kept telling me that I was probably the smallest person she'd ever seen in bariatric post-op and that by christmas I'd probably be really skinny. "You're tiny!" she kept saying to me. She was a hoot. (Meanwhile, she's 6 inches shorter and 100 pounds lighter than I...who's the tiny one??) I was thinking that I was going to do just fine. And then we hit the night shift, and Recovery Day suddenly got VERY long.
The night nurse came in to take my vitals around midnight and I asked her how long it would be before I could get up and walk again. Her answer was that I needed to sleep now, and we'd walk in the morning. I tried explaining to her that I would not sleep, but she kept insisting that that's what it was time to do now. I can barely sleep at home in my own bed with the help of Ambien, much less in a noisy hospital. And so-- I lay there. Awake. Listening to the incessant noise of the hospital until I just couldn't take it anymore and rang for her at 4 am, begging her to just get me out of the room. She seemed amazed that I hadn't slept at all. And I couldn't keep the frustration out of my voice as I said "I told you I wouldn't. I'm just not good at it." So-- we got up and walked 2 laps around the nurses station and the elevator bank. And apparently I was moving far more quickly than she anticipated...she told me that she was really impressed, especially considering that I hadn't slept. But I guess I overdid it, because when i got back and lay down in bed again, my stomach just seized up and I got pretty sick. She gave me Regulan, and told me to lay off the ice chips (which I just had to have because my mouth and throat were SO parched.) All I wanted was a big glass of ice water, but of course, that was out of the question. I could barely keep down a few chips.
After that-- back to bed. Tried to sleep. Nope...not in the cards. She came in again at 5:30 or so and again seemed incredulous that I didn't sleep. I was beyond trying to explain by that time. Then came the guy from the lab to do a morning blood draw. Then came the respiratory therapist. Then the morning shift finally arrived and we went through
the whole check up and vitals thing yet again. Dr. Cirangle came to check on me just as they brought me breakfast around 9:00. He seemed very pleased with my progress, but told me that my white blood cell count was slightly elevated in my labs, so they wanted to send me down for a couple of xrays just to make sure there was no leak. And I'm thinking "Couple of xrays...piece of cake! Stand there, let my innards smile pretty for the camera and then right back to bed." WRONG. I had to swallow 3-4 ounces of contrast dye in order for them to see everything clearly. Now, problem #1. I think I mentioned above that my stomach was now only 2 ounces big. BIG problem #2-- the stuff they had me drink tasted like banana-flavored soap. It probably would have made me sick even if I hadn't just had surgery. Somehow I managed to keep it down long enough for them to take the pics, but as soon as she said it was over, I got violently ill. Of course, most of the dye had passed through me already, so I was just retching miserably while the helpful friendly radiology tech says 'I wish you wouldn't do that... you'll stretch your pouch. Just breathe, you'll feel fine." AS IF I'M DOING THIS FOR FUN??
So-- back to my room, and Caren, the day nurse, gave me another dose of nausea medicine which knocked me right out and I actually slept for an hour. Apparently, this medication is not known for that kind of response, so it could have just been that I was totally wiped out from all of the not sleeping and dry heaving that I'd been doing. Either way, I got a nap for an hour or so, and woke up to find lunch waiting for me.
Vegetable broth, jello, crystal light...i had sips of all of it and waited for Cirangle to clear me so that i could get the hell out of there and back home where I belonged. Apparently, he hadn't told the nurses that I was being discharged that day, because I finally had to ask Caren
about the catheter and when that was coming out, and she was surprised. She went to call them, and was told, "Oh yeah-- you've gotta get that out of her so that we can see how her output is without it." Thank you very much. so-- out it came. And I was peeing like a champ in no time...among other things which don't really need to be discussed in
graphic detail. :) Suffice it to say that the nurses were amazed that my body was already capable of ridding itself of all of the things it was supposed to. Apparently, lots of people have "elimation problems" for several days after they are released and are very uncomfortable because of it. Not me! I'm guessing that contrast dye really got everything happening, because I was good to go....so to speak. :)
And then, ahhhhh...freedom. Cirangle said he saw the pics of my stomach and that it was *perfect*. (Like I said, he's very fond of his work :) ) And then he sprung me from the joint, telling me that I was doing great...better than many. And that he wasn't worried about me at all. So-- a pat on the head, a scrip for pain meds and a "see you in 3 weeks"later... I was outta there. And now home.
Not sleeping.
Again.
...:)
But I did it. And I'm now exactly the kind of loser I want to be. :)
Oct. 10, 2005
We're at T minus 18 hours. I've been on nothing but thin liquids since yesterday morning so I'm HUNGRY. It's only supposed to be 24 hours, but I upped the ante a bit in order to make sure that everything was out of my system...of course, the milk of magnesia I just took should take
care of that quite effectively. :) I find that I'm not too anxious about tomorrow. At least not yet. I've felt some fear...mostly about the possible complications and the fact that, as a self-pay, I just can't afford to have any. So...I've decided officially I won't have any! ;)
Random thought for the day: I keep thinking "Today is the last day I'm going to feel hungry." What a trip! I can't quite wrap my brain around it...what must it be like to *forget* to eat?? This is a weird thought, but I find myself trying to completely *feel* and understand my hunger right now so that I can really recognize the difference between
emotional hunger and physical hunger when the urge to eat returns. On some level, I've always known that difference, but, obviously, I didn't acknowledge it. Time to wake up and smell the denial!
Weight at initial consultation 9/19/05: 278.5
Weight at final pre-op consult 10/10/05: 266
Goal Weight: 159
And....we're off.
care of that quite effectively. :) I find that I'm not too anxious about tomorrow. At least not yet. I've felt some fear...mostly about the possible complications and the fact that, as a self-pay, I just can't afford to have any. So...I've decided officially I won't have any! ;)
Random thought for the day: I keep thinking "Today is the last day I'm going to feel hungry." What a trip! I can't quite wrap my brain around it...what must it be like to *forget* to eat?? This is a weird thought, but I find myself trying to completely *feel* and understand my hunger right now so that I can really recognize the difference between
emotional hunger and physical hunger when the urge to eat returns. On some level, I've always known that difference, but, obviously, I didn't acknowledge it. Time to wake up and smell the denial!
Weight at initial consultation 9/19/05: 278.5
Weight at final pre-op consult 10/10/05: 266
Goal Weight: 159
And....we're off.
Oct 7, 2005
Okay, first and foremost: I got the all clear yesterday morning from the PCP. Say it with me now: "WHOOHOOO!"
Alrighty-- moving right along. I've been thinking a lot about my psych eval the other night and how the therapist kept reassuring me that obesity is a biologically-based disease. I think we're all aware of the nastiness that physiological issues in combination with emotional issues can inflict...all of which just encourage people with the propensity for obesity to eat that much more. And yes, some folks have metabolic disorders that contribute to the problem. But while I really appreciate hearing the sentiment that "It's not your fault", I just can't give up the ghost that easily. It's not my fault how I'm built (bone and structure-wise), I may very well have a genetic predispostion to store fat, and perhaps it isn't my fault that my "you're full" monitor doesn't kick in as soon as it should. It IS, however, my fault if I choose to stuff my face with junk, medicate emotional distress with food instead of acknowleging the real issue (whatever that may be) or spend the day on the couch instead of up and moving around. And I have certainly made my share of those choices over the years. Yes, I believe that there are physiological determinations for obesity, but I also believe that I have to accept some culpability for allowing myself to get this to this point. I don't think I'm berating myself unnecessarily or circling down the shame spiral here-- I just think that accepting my part in the drama is the only way I'm going to be able to make a permanent shift in my perspective about the way I eat...about the way I view my role in maintaining my own health. If it's "not my fault", then surgery is just the fix-all and I don't have to participate at all. WRONG. That's the kind of thinking that got me here!! To paraphrase Dana Carvey's spot-on Bush Senior impression: "Not gonna do it... wouldn't be prudent."
When I was eating more healthily and moving regularly, I wasn't obese. I was still overweight, but not in any imminent health risk. And now I can hardly believe that I *still* don't have any life threatening co-morbidities. My cholesterol is slightly elevated. But other than that, I'm just plain lucky as hell. By all accounts, I should have any number of major problems based on my extended family history of obesity-related diabetes and heart disease. I've dodged a bullet so many times that the walls around me must be riddled with holes...and boy, are there walls! (Though I'm trying like hell to dismantle them). I feel like I've been living in a piece of swiss cheese, and there is just no good reason
that it hasn't crumbled around me into little stinky cheesy bits (which our dog would then lap up happily). I just thank
every-deity-you-can-think-of that I have the opportunity to deal with this before I end up genuinely, frighteningly sick.
Alrighty-- moving right along. I've been thinking a lot about my psych eval the other night and how the therapist kept reassuring me that obesity is a biologically-based disease. I think we're all aware of the nastiness that physiological issues in combination with emotional issues can inflict...all of which just encourage people with the propensity for obesity to eat that much more. And yes, some folks have metabolic disorders that contribute to the problem. But while I really appreciate hearing the sentiment that "It's not your fault", I just can't give up the ghost that easily. It's not my fault how I'm built (bone and structure-wise), I may very well have a genetic predispostion to store fat, and perhaps it isn't my fault that my "you're full" monitor doesn't kick in as soon as it should. It IS, however, my fault if I choose to stuff my face with junk, medicate emotional distress with food instead of acknowleging the real issue (whatever that may be) or spend the day on the couch instead of up and moving around. And I have certainly made my share of those choices over the years. Yes, I believe that there are physiological determinations for obesity, but I also believe that I have to accept some culpability for allowing myself to get this to this point. I don't think I'm berating myself unnecessarily or circling down the shame spiral here-- I just think that accepting my part in the drama is the only way I'm going to be able to make a permanent shift in my perspective about the way I eat...about the way I view my role in maintaining my own health. If it's "not my fault", then surgery is just the fix-all and I don't have to participate at all. WRONG. That's the kind of thinking that got me here!! To paraphrase Dana Carvey's spot-on Bush Senior impression: "Not gonna do it... wouldn't be prudent."
When I was eating more healthily and moving regularly, I wasn't obese. I was still overweight, but not in any imminent health risk. And now I can hardly believe that I *still* don't have any life threatening co-morbidities. My cholesterol is slightly elevated. But other than that, I'm just plain lucky as hell. By all accounts, I should have any number of major problems based on my extended family history of obesity-related diabetes and heart disease. I've dodged a bullet so many times that the walls around me must be riddled with holes...and boy, are there walls! (Though I'm trying like hell to dismantle them). I feel like I've been living in a piece of swiss cheese, and there is just no good reason
that it hasn't crumbled around me into little stinky cheesy bits (which our dog would then lap up happily). I just thank
every-deity-you-can-think-of that I have the opportunity to deal with this before I end up genuinely, frighteningly sick.
Oct. 5, 2005
Had my psych eval last night, and those who know me will be astounded to learn that I'm *not* nuts! It was a really bad day leading up to it, so I was a tad nervous about presenting myself to a therapist in that frame of mind.
First things first..I had my ultrasound on monday. Has anyone ever mentioned that it *hurts*?? SO much for the nice pics that everyone imagines of the nice pregant lady smiling at the monitor as the instrument slides effortlessly over her belly. LIES! They pushed that thing against my ribs so hard that I have bruises today. Maybe they're gentler with a baby on board, but they weren't so pleasant to my gallbladder!
Then I had my Upper GI xray yesterday at 10:00. At least, the appointment was for 10:00...i didn't get in until 12:45. And I had planned on arriving at the hospital at 9:00 so that I could have my last minute bloodwork done before hand. No go-- I had the world's worst public transportation karma and didn't get there until 9:45. So-- no labs for me ("One year!") and I decided to just go to the radiology dept and check in early. Bad choice. Apparently, they had some sort of an equipment malfunction and had to wait for a part to be brought from the hospital on the other side of town. They kept me there for an hour without telling me anything. Then told me it would be another 20 mins. Then after a half an hour, I was told it would be another 15 minutes. Yet another 30 mins went by, and I finally went to the desk and said, (very calmly, I think) "I've been here since 9:45, and I haven't eaten or had anything to drink since last night at 6:30pm, so I'm a bit on edge. Does anyone have a clue as to when I might be able to actually have my procedure done?" I must have had a vaguely manic look on my face because the receptionist jumped right to the phone and called the lab. (You don't keep a fat girl waiting when she hasn't eaten for 18 hours!! ;) ) Anywho, I finally got in, threw back shots of barium like a pro, twisted and turned on the table so much that I got completely trapped in my gown and gave the entire lab a close up view of my nether regions. Not pretty.
SO-- after a day of seething frustration, I went to my psych eval. It turned out to be a really good way to end my day. Anyone looking for a knowlegable and compassionate therapist with tremendous experience in obesity issues in San Francisco would do well to go see Karen Schanche. She is a delightful woman, very fat-friendly, and very supportive of the choice that we're all making. We even went over by 1/2 an hour because we were having such a good chat, and she was just as surprised as I was that she didn't notice the time. Good thing there was no one scheduled after me! We talked for over 2 hours about my medical and emotional history, my support system, my relationships, and my reasoning for my deciding on WLS. among other things. She gave me some great references for physical therapists and nutritionists in SF that specialize in baratric patients. And before I left, she told me that she was honored that I had made her a part of my journey, that she thought I was incredibly well suited and prepared for wls and that she really wanted me to keep her updated on how I progressed. She was terrific, and it made me feel much better about the day.
Only one more appointment left (final pre-op clearance) tomorrow and then...we wait. 6 more days. Until...rebirth.
First things first..I had my ultrasound on monday. Has anyone ever mentioned that it *hurts*?? SO much for the nice pics that everyone imagines of the nice pregant lady smiling at the monitor as the instrument slides effortlessly over her belly. LIES! They pushed that thing against my ribs so hard that I have bruises today. Maybe they're gentler with a baby on board, but they weren't so pleasant to my gallbladder!
Then I had my Upper GI xray yesterday at 10:00. At least, the appointment was for 10:00...i didn't get in until 12:45. And I had planned on arriving at the hospital at 9:00 so that I could have my last minute bloodwork done before hand. No go-- I had the world's worst public transportation karma and didn't get there until 9:45. So-- no labs for me ("One year!") and I decided to just go to the radiology dept and check in early. Bad choice. Apparently, they had some sort of an equipment malfunction and had to wait for a part to be brought from the hospital on the other side of town. They kept me there for an hour without telling me anything. Then told me it would be another 20 mins. Then after a half an hour, I was told it would be another 15 minutes. Yet another 30 mins went by, and I finally went to the desk and said, (very calmly, I think) "I've been here since 9:45, and I haven't eaten or had anything to drink since last night at 6:30pm, so I'm a bit on edge. Does anyone have a clue as to when I might be able to actually have my procedure done?" I must have had a vaguely manic look on my face because the receptionist jumped right to the phone and called the lab. (You don't keep a fat girl waiting when she hasn't eaten for 18 hours!! ;) ) Anywho, I finally got in, threw back shots of barium like a pro, twisted and turned on the table so much that I got completely trapped in my gown and gave the entire lab a close up view of my nether regions. Not pretty.
SO-- after a day of seething frustration, I went to my psych eval. It turned out to be a really good way to end my day. Anyone looking for a knowlegable and compassionate therapist with tremendous experience in obesity issues in San Francisco would do well to go see Karen Schanche. She is a delightful woman, very fat-friendly, and very supportive of the choice that we're all making. We even went over by 1/2 an hour because we were having such a good chat, and she was just as surprised as I was that she didn't notice the time. Good thing there was no one scheduled after me! We talked for over 2 hours about my medical and emotional history, my support system, my relationships, and my reasoning for my deciding on WLS. among other things. She gave me some great references for physical therapists and nutritionists in SF that specialize in baratric patients. And before I left, she told me that she was honored that I had made her a part of my journey, that she thought I was incredibly well suited and prepared for wls and that she really wanted me to keep her updated on how I progressed. She was terrific, and it made me feel much better about the day.
Only one more appointment left (final pre-op clearance) tomorrow and then...we wait. 6 more days. Until...rebirth.
Oct 3, 2005
A list of things I want to do (in no particular order):
*Wear a sleeveless shirt/dress in public
*Wear sexy lingerie instead of battlevests fit for brunhilde
*Bike around Holland with the locals
*Explore the Italian Riviera on a motorscooter
*See Machu Pichu
*Learn to scuba dive
*Lay on the beach without shame
*Learn to Salsa Dance
*Shop in the cute little clothing boutiques along Union/ Haight St or College Ave.
*Learn yoga
*Button my coat
*Hike part of the Appalachian Trail
*Do the Milford Trek AGAIN now that I'm not 13 and surly. :)
*Take up only my seat on the bus/airplane/train
*Be able to get around the food cart in flight
*Feel easily able to move past the other patrons to get to my seat in a theater
*Kayak through a fjord (Norway? Alaska? New Zealand? Does it matter??)
*Go horseback riding
*Go whitewater rafting
*Camp comfortably sleeping on the ground
*See the view from Mt. Davidson at sunrise
*Swing on a swingset
*Rescue several Giant Breed Dogs (www.gentlegiantsrescue.org)
*Learn Tai Chi
*Climb a tree
*Learn to Meditate
*Cross-country ski
*Water ski
*Rollerskate
*Ride my boyfriend's Harley
*Bodysurf in Hawaii
*Learn to Belly Dance
*Walk comfortably along the dry part of the beach
*Find all of the hidden lanes in San Francisco on foot
*Become completely fluent in 2 foreign languages
*Smile naturally and spontaneously in a photo without being supremely aware of my double chin
*Cross my legs
*Wake up without back pain
*Sleep deeply and well for the entire night without awakening
(More to be added as I think of them...)
*Wear a sleeveless shirt/dress in public
*Wear sexy lingerie instead of battlevests fit for brunhilde
*Bike around Holland with the locals
*Explore the Italian Riviera on a motorscooter
*See Machu Pichu
*Learn to scuba dive
*Lay on the beach without shame
*Learn to Salsa Dance
*Shop in the cute little clothing boutiques along Union/ Haight St or College Ave.
*Learn yoga
*Button my coat
*Hike part of the Appalachian Trail
*Do the Milford Trek AGAIN now that I'm not 13 and surly. :)
*Take up only my seat on the bus/airplane/train
*Be able to get around the food cart in flight
*Feel easily able to move past the other patrons to get to my seat in a theater
*Kayak through a fjord (Norway? Alaska? New Zealand? Does it matter??)
*Go horseback riding
*Go whitewater rafting
*Camp comfortably sleeping on the ground
*See the view from Mt. Davidson at sunrise
*Swing on a swingset
*Rescue several Giant Breed Dogs (www.gentlegiantsrescue.org)
*Learn Tai Chi
*Climb a tree
*Learn to Meditate
*Cross-country ski
*Water ski
*Rollerskate
*Ride my boyfriend's Harley
*Bodysurf in Hawaii
*Learn to Belly Dance
*Walk comfortably along the dry part of the beach
*Find all of the hidden lanes in San Francisco on foot
*Become completely fluent in 2 foreign languages
*Smile naturally and spontaneously in a photo without being supremely aware of my double chin
*Cross my legs
*Wake up without back pain
*Sleep deeply and well for the entire night without awakening
(More to be added as I think of them...)
Oct. 1, 2005
Alrighty, so maybe it's not within a week. I figured that nothing would really merit taking up space here until I started all of the hardcore last-minute testing next week, but, per usual, my brain is churning and it's good to be able to spew out all of the random stream-of-conciousness on "paper."
I had an MRI yesterday as part of my annual follow up since my MS diagnosis (Holy cow.. that whole drama was a year ago??). Now, this was my 4th MRI in 18 months...I'm comfortable with the whole process (except for the contrast IV. What a supremely odd sensation that is-- cold
contast dye running into your veins: *shiver*. Plus always have to have the IV in my hand since I'm a kinky-veined lady...OUCH) and I've never been claustrophobic. I don't like being all penned in, but it doesn't freak me out. This time, however, felt very different. I'm no bigger than I was the last two times I had this done and it's the same machine
according to the techs, but I swear to you, it SHRANK. It was a very near thing that I even fit into it. When they first slid me in and my shoulders squeezed against the walls, I felt a very unexpected lurch. I guess my pulse must have increased rather suddenly, because the nurse immediately asked if I was all right. I took a deep breath and told her
i needed a minute to think about it. The ceiling was *maybe* 3 inches above my face, my arms/shoulders were squeezed tightly against the walls, and, of course, you're not allowed to move at all for over an hour. I just *barely* fit. Totally constrained. Trapped. Very uncomfortable and extremely aware of every inch of myself that took up more space
than I was allotted. Feeling like if I even breathed too deeply, I'd stick there and never get out. But then I filled my lungs completely and in the process of letting the air escape slowly and regularly, I had a sudden clarity of thought. I realized that I recognized that feeling. It was more crystalized and intense than I'd ever really noticed, but it was something that had always been with me. It was exactly what I've felt every day of my life as an obese
person. And after Oct. 11, I will NEVER have to feel that way again. The next time I have an MRI, I will slide easily into that machine and have room to spare. The next time I sit in an airplane seat, I will fit without thinking in between the armrests and not overflow into someone else's space. On Ocober 11, I will finally leave that suffocating, claustrophobic, painfully over-full place and move back into the light. Back into the air. I will have my very own space back. And I will have the freedom to fill it as I see fit with energy, with love, with joy...not just with flesh.
I had an MRI yesterday as part of my annual follow up since my MS diagnosis (Holy cow.. that whole drama was a year ago??). Now, this was my 4th MRI in 18 months...I'm comfortable with the whole process (except for the contrast IV. What a supremely odd sensation that is-- cold
contast dye running into your veins: *shiver*. Plus always have to have the IV in my hand since I'm a kinky-veined lady...OUCH) and I've never been claustrophobic. I don't like being all penned in, but it doesn't freak me out. This time, however, felt very different. I'm no bigger than I was the last two times I had this done and it's the same machine
according to the techs, but I swear to you, it SHRANK. It was a very near thing that I even fit into it. When they first slid me in and my shoulders squeezed against the walls, I felt a very unexpected lurch. I guess my pulse must have increased rather suddenly, because the nurse immediately asked if I was all right. I took a deep breath and told her
i needed a minute to think about it. The ceiling was *maybe* 3 inches above my face, my arms/shoulders were squeezed tightly against the walls, and, of course, you're not allowed to move at all for over an hour. I just *barely* fit. Totally constrained. Trapped. Very uncomfortable and extremely aware of every inch of myself that took up more space
than I was allotted. Feeling like if I even breathed too deeply, I'd stick there and never get out. But then I filled my lungs completely and in the process of letting the air escape slowly and regularly, I had a sudden clarity of thought. I realized that I recognized that feeling. It was more crystalized and intense than I'd ever really noticed, but it was something that had always been with me. It was exactly what I've felt every day of my life as an obese
person. And after Oct. 11, I will NEVER have to feel that way again. The next time I have an MRI, I will slide easily into that machine and have room to spare. The next time I sit in an airplane seat, I will fit without thinking in between the armrests and not overflow into someone else's space. On Ocober 11, I will finally leave that suffocating, claustrophobic, painfully over-full place and move back into the light. Back into the air. I will have my very own space back. And I will have the freedom to fill it as I see fit with energy, with love, with joy...not just with flesh.
Sept 29, 2005
Finally got all my ducks in a row and have all of my pre-op labs and appointments scheduled. I had my one year MS-diagnosis follow up this morning (I'm doing great...no discernible change in cognitive or mobile function!) and an MRI tomorrow so that will all be done before the surgery stuff kicks it into high gear next week (which is going to be such a crazy mess that I won't even have a chance to get impatient waiting for the 11th!) I have my Right Upper quadrant ultrasound on monday at 3:00, my Upper GI xray on Tuesday at 10:00, my psych eval on Tues night at 6:30, my final pre-op clearance physical on thursday at 10:00 am, (with a doctor I've never seen...that makes me a smidge nervous, because what if he/she isn't WLS friendly??) and my final consult with Dr. Cirangle on Monday the 10th. In and among all of that, I'm doing my Last Hurrah supper on the 6th with a few friends, some friends are coming into town on Saturday from Seattle to see us, and planning on cleaning the house top to bottom on Sunday, so there is a LOT going on. Good thing I only have to be on a liquid diet for the 24 hours before surgery!! :)
But actually i haven't been going crazy eating a bunch of
soon-to-be-illegal things. Quite the opposite, in fact. I've been walking every day for 30-45 mins, eating 1/2 cup cottage cheese and one vegetarian sausage for breakfast, subsisting mostly on low-sugar protein drinks during the day (trying to figure out which ones i like so i know on what to stock up before the surgery...I'm into the isopure!), drinking a ton of water (which I've always done...old singer habits die hard! But i'm learning to sip instead of gulp) and learning how to eat dinner slowly and carefully. And i've lost 8 lbs in less than 2 weeks! (Although i'm betting that that may have changed since last night when i made my boyfriend our favorite meal one last time-- carmelized shallot gryuere fondue with fresh sourdough, steamed broccoli and chicken apple sausage to dip...oh my god, heavenly!) SO--i'm pretty much getting in the groove ahead of time so that it's not quite such a massive transition come post-op time. I feel really REALLY good about that. But it's sure as hell not
going to stop me from having ONE blow-it-all-to-hell last damned good meal next week!! Now if I can just make up my mind as to where...
BTW-- did anyone else find that they've shrunk?? (And not in the way that we're all attempting to shrink!) I'm talking height here-- I've been 5'8" since I was 13 years old, but the last few docs apts I've had (and one was first thing in the morning) I measured out at just barely over 5'7"!! All the weight and pressure on my spine must have compressed my vertebrae or something. I know it doesn't seem like much, but for some reason, that really bothers me!
Other than that-- I feel positively giddy. Ever since I changed my work schedule to 10:30-5:30 and started my day with a walk, I've felt like a brand new person. Such a much better overall outlook and mood. I've always been a pretty positive person, but I'm just feeling so damned good about all of this that I'm practically Pollyanna!! (No no... that
would be insufferably annoying. Never mind.) I'll just say, I feel so peaceful and so *right* with this decision. Just doing something so good for myself and actually having chosen a path feels incredible.
In one other spot of news, I spoke to Shelly H from the VSG board yesterday afternoon (she's in recovery as we speak...Yay, Shelly!!) and she was such a lovely woman. I'm going to see her at the hospital tomorrow, so I'll post an update on her surgery site afterwards to let everyone
know how she's doing. Oddly enough, it turns out that we grew up fairly close to each other and her aunt and uncle were my neighbors for years! Such a tiny world.
Okay-- enough babblage for today. Next time I update, I'll be within a week of the losing side! (Oy!...)
But actually i haven't been going crazy eating a bunch of
soon-to-be-illegal things. Quite the opposite, in fact. I've been walking every day for 30-45 mins, eating 1/2 cup cottage cheese and one vegetarian sausage for breakfast, subsisting mostly on low-sugar protein drinks during the day (trying to figure out which ones i like so i know on what to stock up before the surgery...I'm into the isopure!), drinking a ton of water (which I've always done...old singer habits die hard! But i'm learning to sip instead of gulp) and learning how to eat dinner slowly and carefully. And i've lost 8 lbs in less than 2 weeks! (Although i'm betting that that may have changed since last night when i made my boyfriend our favorite meal one last time-- carmelized shallot gryuere fondue with fresh sourdough, steamed broccoli and chicken apple sausage to dip...oh my god, heavenly!) SO--i'm pretty much getting in the groove ahead of time so that it's not quite such a massive transition come post-op time. I feel really REALLY good about that. But it's sure as hell not
going to stop me from having ONE blow-it-all-to-hell last damned good meal next week!! Now if I can just make up my mind as to where...
BTW-- did anyone else find that they've shrunk?? (And not in the way that we're all attempting to shrink!) I'm talking height here-- I've been 5'8" since I was 13 years old, but the last few docs apts I've had (and one was first thing in the morning) I measured out at just barely over 5'7"!! All the weight and pressure on my spine must have compressed my vertebrae or something. I know it doesn't seem like much, but for some reason, that really bothers me!
Other than that-- I feel positively giddy. Ever since I changed my work schedule to 10:30-5:30 and started my day with a walk, I've felt like a brand new person. Such a much better overall outlook and mood. I've always been a pretty positive person, but I'm just feeling so damned good about all of this that I'm practically Pollyanna!! (No no... that
would be insufferably annoying. Never mind.) I'll just say, I feel so peaceful and so *right* with this decision. Just doing something so good for myself and actually having chosen a path feels incredible.
In one other spot of news, I spoke to Shelly H from the VSG board yesterday afternoon (she's in recovery as we speak...Yay, Shelly!!) and she was such a lovely woman. I'm going to see her at the hospital tomorrow, so I'll post an update on her surgery site afterwards to let everyone
know how she's doing. Oddly enough, it turns out that we grew up fairly close to each other and her aunt and uncle were my neighbors for years! Such a tiny world.
Okay-- enough babblage for today. Next time I update, I'll be within a week of the losing side! (Oy!...)
About Me
Oakland, CA
Location
37.3
BMI
Surgery
10/11/2005
Surgery Date
Sep 14, 2005
Member Since
