The First Few Days

I'm on day four post-surgery. It's been four days of a crazy ride, let me tell you. A lot of the details of Wednesday evening are foggy, considering the circumstances. I woke up from surgery around 6pm and was in recovery for a couple of hours. All I wanted was to see Nick, because even though he drives me insane, he's my favorite adult human being. I was getting settled in my room after they moved me from the recovery room and in walked this handsome breath of fresh air. I, of course, cried. I was happy to see a piece of home when I felt so overwhelmed and on my own in the hospital. I hate hospitals for that very reason. So isolating and so impossible to actually rest or heal or recuperate. I've always wanted to get out ASAP, after my kids were born, and after any procedure or surgery I've had. There is no rest in a hospital bed, I assure you. 

Wednesday night was absolutely miserable. Nick went home after a little bit to be with the kids, there's no point in him being miserable alongside me in the hospital when he can be taking care of the littles. I was in pain at the incision sites, huge amounts of discomfort from the gas bubbles in my belly since they had to basically blow my stomach up like a balloon to manipulate the tools laparoscopically to perform the surgery, and scared of the decision I had made. I didn't know how this was going to turn out (and still don't) and the fog of the surgery/anesthesia overweighed the positive thoughts of changes to come and end results. 

I slept about 30 minutes total on Wednesday night. It was absolutely awful. The nurse kept coming in to see if I was able to fall asleep, but the second I did, another nurse would come in to take my blood pressure, which was high, because duh, I was stressed out. The nurses did their best, and I have no complaints about the care I received in the hospital. But it was one of the most miserable experiences of my life. Gas bubbles, stomach pain, discomfort, lack of sleep, anxiety, loneliness, and worrying about the aftermath of my choices. A perform storm for what came next, I suppose. 

My surgeon came in around 9am on Thursday morning and said the surgery went great, and I was doing a good job of getting up and walking around and tolerating liquids, so he was sending me home. I was having pretty strong bouts of nausea, but the nausea at home would be way easier to deal with than being in the hospital and miserable for other reasons there, as mentioned above. So by 11am, Nick had come to the hospital and we were on the way home. 

And then it began...the nausea that felt like it would never end. Like the worst hangover of your life times 1000, because guess what? Dry heaving with nothing in your stomach and four incisions which make every single motion more painful, was beyond words awful. It lasted for a good chunk of the day, I would sleep for an hour or two, and then wake up and feel nauseous. I wasn't eating anything, and was barely tolerating clear liquids at that point, but I was so happy to see my kids and be in my house, that I knew it would all pass. It would all be part of the journey, and I'd end up on the other side, hopefully sooner than later. 

Thursday evening I had some choppy sleep, but I'll take anyone over that first night in the hospital. On Friday, I took a good long nap mid-day and was feeling better than I had in days. Still a bit of pain and discomfort, but things were starting to look up. I even went and watched my youngest play soccer. A victory in my surgery journey for sure. 

On Saturday, I decided to take it up a notch and go to a soccer game, as well as my son's CIF volleyball game which was an hour away. The games themselves were tolerable, but the car ride was miserable. Uncomfortable, and then of course, the kids had to eat, so I smelled fast food for a bit on the way home. That wasn't as bad as I anticipated to be honest. I'm sure that will change as I get more hungry and my stomach develops a bit more, but for now, it was all good. I was so worn out from those adventures that day, that I was very sore on Saturday night, but slept well and woke up today to Day 4 Post-Op. I'm able to tolerate all of the clear liquids and a couple things from my full liquid list (potato soup strained so there are no chunks at all, and sugar-free vanilla/chocolate swirl pudding). I'm walking around, folding laundry, and blogging. My brain is working properly (for the most part) and I'm feeling stronger every day. I even washed my hair and shaved my legs today! 

I feel like the first few days are its own battle. From here, there will be other battles, but my body will slowly start to get stronger, my stomach will be able to tolerate more and more, and I'll resume a new normal. What that new normal looks like exactly, I'm not 100% sure. But I do know it'll be better than the old normal, and I'll be a better version of myself six months down the road. 

Pre-Op Behind the Scenes!

 Oh man. I did not know what I was in for with the pre-op liquid diet and the sheer weight of the anxiety that I experienced last week. Seven days ago, I was having my last day of "regular eating", which if you take a look at the truth behind my regular eating, you'd see that it wasn't regular at all. Food had become a comfort to me in the crazy chaos of motherhood over the last 16 years, and especially since I started working from home exclusively since 2014. These aren't excuses, just more foundation for you to understand where I am coming from in this decision, and why I chose to go the surgery route. 

Liquid diets are really terrible. Especially for someone who has issues with texture (Jell-o isn't my friend) and an awful gag reflex. Super bad combo. Starting on Monday, April 24th, I was on a clear liquid diet in preparation for my surgery on Wednesday, April 26th. I started that week off at 273.2 pounds. That is so embarrassing to even type it out, but I know in six months, I'll be far away from that number and celebrating my successes, so here goes. Full transparency. 

My lovely diet on Monday began with protein shakes, Gatorade Zero, chicken broth (gag), sugar-free popsicles and sugar-free pudding. The Jell-o, I really gave it a shot, but it's just not my jam. Even with very limited options, I'll pass. I was so cranky by the afternoon on Monday, I was seriously second-guessing my decision to go through with this. I talked to my husband about it, and he was rationally supportive, per usual. Telling me that I needed to focus on my goals, and not get caught up in how I felt at that particular moment. He was probably right, but it was incredibly aggravating to hear. On a liquid diet, no less. 

By Tuesday, I was freaking out. I didn't know how to tell people, I had only let four people know at that point. Four people that I knew I needed the support of and trusted to keep my best interest in mind, even if they were concerned or worried about my decision. I still hadn't told my kids when I went to sleep on Tuesday night. They knew I was having surgery, but they didn't know why or what the process would entail. They knew I couldn't eat food prior to the surgery, but since they're kids and have their own stuff at the forefront of their minds, they didn't ask too many questions. 

Tuesday evening, I was starting to get a little more excited about the possibility of the end game here. The results. The solution. The feeling better. The dropping of excess weight I'd been carrying around for so many years. Then I woke up on Wednesday morning and was scared all over again. It was a back-and-forth emotional roller coaster, and it was exhausting. Not to mention that I am anxious by nature, and was suddenly thinking about what would happen to my kids if I didn't make it through the surgery. I was already worried about who was going to get them to and from school and sports and friends' houses, and now this. Wednesday was one of the longest days of my life. I was supposed to be at the hospital at noon, but then we waited around, of course, and I was in pre-op stressing out and worrying about things until about 3pm. I think I went into the pre-op room around 3pm or so. The thing is, I'm not scared of surgery. I've had 7 or 8 surgeries in my life. Anesthesia is usually fine for me, no complications. I don't have a really difficult time with pain management, I usually have a pretty high tolerance for pain and can muster through it. I remember going to a high school play a day or two after I had my gallbladder removed when I was 17, no problem. Now granted, I've added a few years of wear and tear to this body, but even back in 2019 when I had a procedure requiring anesthesia, I woke up happy and fine and in minimal pain. 

So I went into the surgery anxious and worried, but not scared of the actual procedure. More scared of what was to follow, and rightfully so. The best (and worst) was yet to come. 

Body Image & The Decision

 I've struggled with body image since I was a teenager, like most American females. My weight fluctuated as an adult after I stopped playing sports and started being less active in general with a "real" job and full-time college classes. Fast forward to the year before I got pregnant with the twins, and I was at my heaviest. I went on a lean protein diet and lost weight to a healthy point, and then got pregnant and struggled to get that weight off for about a year. Toss in a divorce (stress diet) and I was back down to my comfortable weight of about 140. I got remarried and then got comfortable, add a few pounds, and then got pregnant a few years later. Fast forward to 10 years later, and I am at my heaviest weight. Uncomfortable. Not trusting my own body. Fearful of falling or getting hurt because the recovery would be next to impossible at this size. Ready to make a change, but terrified that the wrong step will lead to no progress, setting me back or keeping me standing still. 

After taking a year-long series of classes through my medical insurance to find out more about the options offered, I decided to meet with a bariatric surgeon to discuss possibilities. I decided in late March to pursue a gastric bypass surgery, which was scheduled for April 26, 2023. I did not make this decision lightly, but considering the health effects of my weight over the past several years, I knew I needed to make a drastic change in order to see drastic and life-changing results. I know myself, and I know that this isn't the solution for everyone. I still don't know if it was the right choice for me, to be perfectly honest. But I'm embracing the steps and the process, and taking it one day at a time. 

For those of you considering weight loss surgery, I wanted to share a few of the reasons why I chose to go this route. 

1. I have sleep apnea, which has gotten worse over the last few years. 

2. I have ongoing issues with high blood pressure and it seems to be getting worse as time goes on. 

3. I am borderline diabetic. 

4. I am uncomfortable in my own body. I don't trust it, I'm always worried I'm going to fall if I try to do something physical, because this body just doesn't feel like my own. 

5. I want to coach my kids and run around with them. I want to be an active mom. 

6. I want to live a long time and be able to know my grandkids. 

7. I want to enjoy life and our pool and wear a bathing suit around friends and family without feeling like a beached whale or a sideshow. 

8. I want to be confident in my own skin again. I haven't felt that for almost 15 years now. 

9. I want to be able to fly on an airplane and not feel like I'm inconveniencing the person next to me because I'm spilling into their seat. 

10. I want to ride roller coasters (maybe - I am getting older so this one might be out!), and sit in movie theater seats, and walk next to my husband and not feel like I'm an embarrassment to him. I want him to be proud that I'm his wife. I want my kids to be proud that I'm their mom. 

So there you have it. Last Wednesday, four days ago, I had gastric bypass surgery. But that's not exactly the beginning of it. I'll share more of this journey with those of you interested in following, and I'll even include some of the details no one likes to talk about. For those of you who aren't interested, skip ahead, I'm sure there will be more content at some point, but in this season of life, I'm deciding that I was made for more than a sedentary life on the couch, and I took the decision into my own hands. Follow along if you'd like!