Jan 11th, I had gastric bypass surgery. I know, I know. Why did I do that??? Well since the beginning of this blog some years ago, I’ve been struggling with weight and yo-yo dieting. I don’t know how many times I’ve tried and failed, but I was sick of it. It seems like 30 lbs was my limit each attempt. I’d lose 30, felt good, would see results in my clothes, and some how sabbatage it, gain all the weight right back,plus some and there you have it. Until the next greatest and latest fad diet comes or the next good weather stretch, where I’d think, I’m going to lose such and such lbs by my birthday. Birthday comes, no where near the targe goal reached, and I’d feel defeated yet once again.
In September, I originally went to my consult, to see about lap band surgery. I definitely was not thinking gastric bypass because the thought of cutting off my stomach, making a new one and dumping syndrome really didn’t appeal to me. After reviewing all of my medical history, it was determined that with Lupus, your esophagus can be compromised with that disease alone and that you should really consider the gastric bypass.
Now that didn’t instantly change my mind. There was the drastic weight loss up front w/GB vs. the same slow paced weight loss w/lap band. The constant visiting the doctor to have your band adjusted or tightened. The idea of your band causing infections and your tubing backing up and not knowing it until after you’re already sick and having side effects. I had to make a decision. Yes or No to GB.
So here I am, four days later. Everyone has asked how I’m doing. Usually I’d say good. Chugging along. Or something along those lines. Now I’m thinking… ‘eh I’m over it! This bloated feeling is getting on my nerves. I just want to fart or poop and move things around in there. I mean don’t get me wrong, it could be mounds worse. I just hate the feeling. And then you get hungry. Well you can’t eat very much when you feel like your topping off an already stuffed 1 oz pouch they now call your stomach. Which I guess is the point of not feeling very hungry these days, but when I feel hungry, I don’t want to eat because I feel so bloated.
Just tell me when I can poop. That’s what I’ll be looking forward to next.
Pain wise there isn’t a whole lot of pain going on. I mean, I feel sorry when I’m moving around too much or I’ve exerted myself. But the liquid vicodine is running out and a sister needs to spread things out!!! My supporters have advised me to walk around, so that’s what I’m going to do. I walk it out, I walk it out, I walk it out… that’s what’s stuck in my head today.
The best thing about the surgery was the morphine pump. OMG. When they told me that I had a morphine pump and that I could push that button every 8 minutes, a sister was pump happy. I was so morphine wasted. At one time, my phone was ringing in my room and I didn’t know what that was. I mean, I was so gone. In my mind, I was like the phone is ringing. Then I was like, what phone is ringing. Then it was like your room phone dingleberry. But I pushed the morphine button, instead of the nurse button and I was like oh well! Then the nurse came in and she helped me answer the phone, when my friend called right back. It was quite comical.
The worst thing, I’d have to say is this bloated feeling. The only thing worst than bloatedness (is that a word?) is constipation. And I’m sure that is right around the corner, considering narcotics cause constipation.
Oh oh oh, the worst thing too is that for all of you that know me, know that I love to drink a lot of water. Well those days are now gone. I can no longer drink tall glasses of water at once. I now need to sip these small increments of water and over a period of time. Just like eating these 1/2 cups of food over 30 minutes of time.
Sounds like I have a lot of worst!!! It’s really not that bad. Just takes some adjusting. I am really glad I’ve done this. I’ve already lost a lot of weight in the 4 days. So I’m happy about that.
I guess I better go eat and get my 1st of 6 1/2 cup meals in.
There will be more to come I’m sure.
