Stacie B.

Send Message

Block

Add Friend

 It's been 6 weeks since my surgery. And I have not really been losing any weight.  I lost 12 lbs in my pre-op diet and 10 lbs the first week after surgery, then 3 lbs the week after that. since week 3 I have not lost anything., in fact I have gained a pound. I know what it is. I suppose I could be eating better, I've been allowing sugar in my diet, not alot but more than I should. Also I have not been to the gym. My struggle has never been overeating but being lazy. I feared that the surgery wouldn't help with my problems and it seems I am right. Even though the one person I live with is sleeved also and doing great, I am still not able to find time to exercise and live disciplined. I went to join Kung Fu so I can learn discipline in my life while getting exercise and learning lifelong skills but it costs almost two hundred dollars a month. I had downloaded some bellydancing dvds but I have yet to really begin them. I have a free gym I was going to go to before I get ready for work but it opens at 7:00 am, the time I need to be home getting ready. I would go after work but after my almost hour long drive home from work, I just wanna be home besides I'm usually hungry. Excuses after excuses. That's all I have. And I HATE them. I hate it when people give excuses why they don't do things, but thats exactly what I do. and I have done it for years if not all my life. Why can't I just do it?!? Why do I always have the same struggles over and over again. Why do I allow myself to be lazy when I hate it? And if I don't get it into gear soon, I will be one of the few (if any) who has failed after getting VSG.

 For the next week, I kind of accidently skipped the blenderized/pureed food step. I didn't realize this until I was in week 3. But I had refried beans and ricotta bake. I ate them slowly and made sure to chew as much as possble and I didn't have any problems. My next taste of food after the cream of mushroom soup was the refried beans with cheese. I am a cheese addict. And 3 weeks (including the 2 week liquid diet) without cheese was really starting to do a number on me. The cream of mushroom soup cleared my head but when I took that first taste of the cheese in the refried beans...! Sigh! All was right with the world again! It was an epic moment! I do not have words to describe the elation I had when i tasted that cheese.  I knew that as long as I can have cheese I can get through anything!!

Later that week my incisions started itching. At first I was excited because that meant they were healing. But the next day, they were itching so bad I could not keep my hands from rubbing my stomach. I looked at the area around the incisions and they were all red and puffy. I knew something was not usual. I showed my husband and he suggested I was allergic to something. A couple more days and it got worse, I rescheduled my 2 week check up to a couple days earlier. My doctor said I am probably allergic to the glue they put on the incisions and he pulled them off. Luckily I was healed enough so there wasn't any real open wounds and I didn't have to worry about oozing. Once the glue came off and I cleaned the area real good and after a dose of Benedryl cream, my belly was not so itchy anymore. It itches normally now like its supposed to.

 A week had gone by and I've spent my time at home watching One Tree Hill on Netflix. I've been drinking my water and my protein mix. One day probably day 5, I felt really weak and fuzzy. I coudn't describe how I was feeling and wondered how someone knows they need to go back to the hospital for dehydration. It was then when I focused less on the protein mixes and just sipped water all day long. Literally, I had a cup in my hand from 10:00 to about 7:00 sipping all day. After that I felt better and can feel myself progressively healing. 

By the time day 7 came around I was really looking forward to eating something besides drinking water and protein mix, and protein shake with water. I was looking forward to the next day where I can eat creamy soup or anything besides just "water". Also, the next day I was supposed to be returning to work. I work a desk job and I know that the first couple days my energy usage at work will be minimal. My boss really needed me to be there to prepare and to help with inventory which was in 4 days. 

That morning I rode with my husband to an appointment he had. As I was riding in the car, sipping my water, I felt light headed and couldn't think straight. It was as if I had been high from pain killers, but I hadn't been taking any. I was unable to focus on simple conversation. I was very concerned because if I was like this tomorrow I would not have been able to drive to work!  I called into work as asked him if it was ok if I can take an extra day off so I can get some "real" food in me before I go back. My boss worked it out and said it would be ok. In the meantime, Shayne was going to work and leaving me at home for half a day and I asked, "How much would a half a day really make?" I don't think I can wait a half a day for "real" food. That night I made myself Cream of Mushroom soup with milk. I poured about 1 ounce in a small espresso cup and took a sip. That one sip cleared my head and I felt 100% better. I then I cooled the soup down and added some unflavored protein powder and heated it up again making sure not to go over 140 degrees. Lets just say that soup was my best friend for the next couple days.

 Day 4 - the day after Christmas, Shayne worked and I was home by myself. It left me time to think about what I did. Suddenly I was depressed. "What have I done to myself?" "Why did I let them cut my stomach out?" "I can't eat like I used to anymore!" I blamed it on the fact that I was undecided before the surgery and the part of me that wanted to stay like I was was upset at the part of me that wanted to change. If I had been one of those that was super excited for the surgery and could not wait for their new lives to begin (like my husband) maybe I wouldn't have been so depressed. Now I see that I was grieving for my old life that is now dead. When my husband got home I asked him to remind me of the reasons I chose to do this. I knew that if I can just hear my own reasons be spoken back to me, it will put my mind back on track and I won't focus on what I'd be missing. Instead, all he said was "Don't worry, this will pass." LOL Gotta love my husband! I was depressed all that day and that night I woke up in the middle of the night still depressed. Now I don't usually have depression, although I get lows like everyone does, I usually am a very positive person and can see the purpose in anything. I don't let circumstances get me down. So when I woke up in the middle of the night as depressed as I was, I knew I had to do something. The only thing that can truly cure this is God. I suddenly realized that I hadn't asked God to help me in this journey or the procedure. I cried out to God saying," Lord, I never asked you to help me and be with me through all this. I'm sorry. I need you. Please just be here with me and help me recover quickly." As soon as I said that the depression lifted. I love it when God answers prayers quickly!! 

 This year I was sort of glad we didn't have much to do on Christmas Day. Since we moved away from our familes 6 years ago every Christmas that I have not been able to go home has been hard. All my friends here are spending their Christmas away with their families and it usually leaves Shayne and I left alone (we have no kids). Most of the time I have been able to go home for Christmas but Shayne can never take time off around Christmas time in his job so the last couple years I've stayed. 

This year, I was invited to spend Christmas with a group of people from church. Figures after all the years we have spent holidays alone, the one year I can't participate is the year I'm invited somewhere.  Christmas without family or food seems kind of not like Christmas at all but I was determined to make it at least a little special. We stayed in all day and watched as many Christmas movies as possible. At least it was a relaxing day. Next year and the years after I can look forward to real Christmas's again with all the food and trimmings as every Christmas should have. And this year hasn't been the worst Christmas ever. I'll reserve that title for the year we traveled on Christmas Day. But that's a different story...

Woke up day 2 after spitting up a few times at night and I was going to the bathroom on my own. By the time the morning came I had gotten some pretty good sleep when a doctor walked in. He said that he will be filling in for Dr. Stefanidis while he is off that day. The new doctor was going to check on me later that day to see if I can go home. I kept my water down all morning I was waiting for my honey to come and take me home. Nurse Craig was my nurse again and he seemed genuinely happy for me and the progress I was making for moving around on my own and not needing very much morphine. That early afternoon Dr. Stefanidis stopped by in his plain clothes to see how I was. I felt honored that he would stop by on his day off, on Christmas Eve!  They got another dose of that strong nausea medicine for me and allowed me to go home. Nurse Craig wheeled me to our car and I managed to get out of the wheelchair and into my car with virtually no problems. There was pain at the large incision site but if I moved just right, the pain was minimal. I was very proud of myself.  

When I got home I was able to climb the 3 flights of stairs with no real problems. I sat on the couch. Now our couch is worn and I had difficulty getting out of the couch even before surgery, This was a concern for me since there was really no other comfortable spot to sit in the house, except maybe my computer chair. I found that if I pushed myself out of the couch using my arms and slid to the edge, I can use my legs to stand up and completely bypass my abs to get up. I took it easy that night letting my dear husband wait on me.

The day after surgery I felt very well. I got out of bed on my own to walk and later to sit in the chair. My doctor came to visit me and said that I may be able to go home that day, a day earlier than I planned. My goal that day was to keep my mouth hydrated and try to drink as much water as possible. I also found out that I only had 4 incisions and no scarey drainage pouch that my husband had. I was very excited about that. However, later that afternoon I started to vomit. I couldn't keep my water down. Normally I really don't like vomiting anyway (who does?) but heaving with fresh incisions in your abdomin... not good! I knew there was no hope of me going home that day. I knew that it was important to get my water down, to stay hydrated. And when the nausea came on I dreaded not only the pain to my stomach, but the fact that I am not getting well! That night after spitting up a few more times they gave me some super strong nausea medicine. I am told that they rarely have to give to their patients. Also I forgot to mention that during surgery my heart had slowed down too much, (obviously they did a good job and didn't let me die) and that happens with about 10% of patients. At that time with 2 incidents that rarely happen, I was feeling a little special.  Oye!  

I have some catching up to do because I joined OH after I already had my surgery. So here is the story about the surgery and recovery.

In the days leading up to the surgery, I was determined not to think too much about it. Maybe if I thought too much, I would chicken out. I still wasn't completely convinved it was the only option or the best option for me. I wanted to join the Biggest Loser (but I wasn't big enough) or join a boot camp, or heck, join the military (I'm too old for that now) Or I didn't want to do anything, just the same as I was. I can live a fulfilling life how I was, I just needed the right attitude.
Anyway, since the surgery was so important to my husband and if I was honest with myself it was kinda critical for me, I decided to do it.

It was the day before surgery and I think my boss was more nervous than I was. I think he was afraid I wouldn't make it back to help with inventory. I knew I was pushing it having the procedure so close to the end of the year, but it was a miracle I was even able to get it by the end of the year so I didn't have to pay my full deductable again. As I went to the hospital I was cool and collected. My husband asked me if I'm nervous, no I wasn't. It was as if I was just going for a check up. It wasn't until I was in Pre-op laying on the bed just waiting for my turn that I started feeling nervous. My irrational "fat-thinking" part of my brain started to panic. What the heck am I doing?!? Why am I doing this?!?  I needed to be reminded of my reasons I had to choose what I'm doing. I needed to hear that I've tried dieting all my life and I have never gotten the body I loved. If I don't do something drastic soon I'd end up like my mom and not be able to walk up stairs at age 60. Instead my beloved husband said, "Can we get her sedated?!" LOL. I really kind of felt the same way. Lets just get it over with.

Eventually, my turn came and next thing I knew I was waking up in recovery. When I finally remembered what was going on, the first thing that came to my head. "Well, Its done. There's no turning back now." I felt the "fat-thinking" part of my brain deflate in defeat. The goal now is to recover as quickly as possible. And my back hurt so bad like I have been sitting in an uncomfortable chair all day. I needed to roll over and curl up or sit up and stretch my back but I couldn't. When they got me to my room I managed to roll on my left side and kind of curl up. I took a nap and felt better.

I was very glad that my nurse for that day was Nurse Craig. He was my husbands nurse 4 months earlier He is so friendly and was excited for us. He talked about his wife and we all talked about our cats. It was as if we knew him for years. So when I saw that he was my nurse I was elated. So glad i didn't get a grouchy or indifferent nurse. In fact all the nurses that helped me the three days I was there were all very good.

They helped out of the bed when it was time for my walk and actually that was the only time I needed help. I was determined to do as much on my own as I could. But I still was cautious of not pushing myself too much. I wanted to heal fast not make things worse. My goal was to able to go back to work (my desk job) in one week. I didn't want to be a wuss.