The time has come to return to work and today is my first day back. I was pleasantly surprised that the pair of pants I picked out to wear did not fit. They slid off of me. A great start to the day!!
I wasn't sure what to expect when I got off the elevator this morning. I was surprisingly eager to come back to the office, as it is one step closer to returning to a normal life. I told a few co-workers in confidence about my surgery before I left, and I knew they would be supportive after. Most others knew I had surgery but did not know anything specific.
What I was interested to see the most was what would be everyone's reaction. I have lost 30 pounds (15 pre-op, 15 post-op) so there is a noticable difference in my appearance. For the most part, the reaction was "You look good!" but nothing specific about weight loss. I was happy with that response.
What is almost funny to me is the different reaction a man vs. a woman has to the news of my bariatric surgery. I knew it was time to tell my boss and team leader, both of whom are men. When I checked in the office while I was still home recovering, I told them both the reason for my surgery. Their reaction was the same "Well..Oh, Great. Ok...". In other words, they didn't know what to say. I understand that it's a sensitive subject - addressing the need for bariatric surgey would also bring up the issue of being overweight, obese, etc. Given the sensitivity of the issue, avoidance was their plan of attack. Even though they didn't know how to respond, I'm glad I told them the whole story.
I was asked to go out to lunch today by coworkers to catch up. I knew this would be a big hurdle for me. I work in between Little Italy and Harbor East in the city of Baltimore. On top of the best Italian (er..carb loaded) places, we are also fortunate to have Indian, American, Mexican, Irish, etc.. You name it and I can walk to it and get it. Since I'm still on pureed foods, I knew it was not smart for me to go out to eat, even if it was for soup. Until I get back on a full diet again, I cannot tempt myself with the variety of food options available to me. I understand that I WILL eventually go out to lunch again. It's part of the journey - learning how to handle food in almost any situation, including eating out. But for now, I played it safe and stuck with my brought in lunch.
When I warmed up my lunch, I could tell those who knew I had bariatric surgery was curious what I was eating (3 oz. of blended tuna steak). Many don't know what someone who has had bariatric surgery can and cannot eat. I do not mistake curiosity with being nosy or insensitive. Most people do not know someone who has had bariatric surgery, and even if they do they may have not sat down and had a meal with them. So in a way, it's important to show those who do not know much about the weight loss surgery journey what it is all about. I do not use the words "role modle for bariatric surgery" though. That would impose too much pressure on me and indicate that mistakes are not possible. We will all fall (and get back up again) during this journey.
The best part of my first day back is that I can walk down the hall of my office with my head held a little higher than when I left. I still have a while to go, and more weight to lose, but I've started and I'm going in the right direction. People noticed. But more importantly I NOTICED and that's better satisfaction than a plate full of spaghetti and meatballs.
The first few days home were eventful. I came home from the hospital and was warmly welcomed by my two children and my parents. My children wanted to surprise me with flowers and a huge welcome home banner which tickled me pink. Although I was very tired, I tried very hard to act upbeat and peppy for the sake of the children.
Against my better judgement I continued to take the pain medication for the first day and a half from returning home from the hospital. Although the drugs certainly took the edge off, my ability to maintain focus was limited and that feeling does not settle right with me. I asked my father to track down some liquid tylenol (No NSAIDs post-op) adult strength. Of course he came through, but it was quite difficult to get swallow the necessary amount. The following day I settled for regular strength swallowable tylenol with no problems.
One of the biggest hurtles for me during this time was fluid intake. In the hospital, you almost have a security blanket with your IV, knowing that dehydration is not of serious concern when they are pumping you full of liquids 24 hours a day. Once at home, that responsibility falls on your own shoulders. I tried as hard as I could to make sure I was intaking enough fluids, although I'm sure I fell short of the required amount the first few days.
My parents stayed with me and my mother made her famous homemade chicken noodle soup. Although I couldn't eat the chicken or noodles, it felt great to be included. Having similar foods as to what your family is eating makes you feel as though you are not on the outside looking in, but eating along with them (albeit much smaller amounts!).
By Day 3 I was starting to feel like myself again. I was able to shower more efficiently and begin normal day to day activities. I found myself tiring a lot quicker, either from the lack of food intake or from the surgery. I am not typically a naper but during this time they were necessary. I was thankful to have a great support system during this time to help me along the way and tend to the children when I needed to rest.
I had only one "breakdown" of sorts and that was when my husband and the children had Little Ceaser's Pizza and breadsticks. I told them all that during this time they could eat what they wanted as I was not able to cook dinner. I surprised myself at how much my will power was tested. Even though I knew I could not eat ANY of it, the smell of it was overpowering. Since I knew I couldn't eat it, but wanted it anways, I had a little bit of breakdown. My parents and husband were there to quickly provide me with a variety of things I COULD eat and that helped me through the storm. I have not any huge breakdowns since, but the urge is sometimes there, lingering in the shadows. I follow protocol though, either by getting up and walking around, or finding a substitute I am allowed to eat like sugar free jello.
If there are any other times I'm feeling weak, I simply look in the mirror. As vain as it sounds, seeing my weight loss helps me mentally stick with it. I know my arms and face are smaller now, and that alone is a lot of motivation for me. Also my husband quite frequently tells me "You are looking so great, Babe". Those little words also provide a lot of encouragement. In a book I'm reading, a fellow bariatric says "Nothing tastes as good as thin feels". I try to remember that as well during any lows I may have.
Onward and upward! I have now moved onto pureed foods. A welcomed change!
Before surgery, I was fully anticipating counting the minutes until I was able to return home and begin my new life. I gave birth to two childen, how difficult could this be? I was right, well almost...
For the most part, surgery was text book. I arrived at the hospital two hours prior to my surgery time and began the intake process. After filling out all the necessary paperwork, I was sent to my pre-op prep room to begin all monitoring, IV line, compression stockings, etc. All went very smooth. I also had a very friendly intake nurse who was able to load up Pandora on the room computer and asked me about my favorite music. I was able to have some calm, relaxing tunes playing while I was waiting for the big show to start.
At this point I have about an hour until surgery time. My husband was calm and patient and kept me laughing the entire time. During this hour, the parade of doctors, nurses, etc. came into the room and asked me the same exact questions. I had to be asked about 25 times what my name was, date of birth, and why I was there. It seemed as though there was a lot of repetition among the doctors and staff who were looking through the same medical chart. It didn't bother me though, it helped the time go by quicker while I was patiently waiting.
The final step I remember was the anethesiologist putting in the "happy medicine" which calms you down before entering into the surgical room. I remember her telling me that we were getting ready to get started and we began wheeling down the hallway. After that, nothing. I have no memories of anything until waking up after surgery.
The nurses in the recovery room were wonderful. Very patient and calm. When I woke up I don't remember talking much, I think was moreso in a twilight state than fully awake from all the drugs during surgery. The first few hours after surgery were the absolute worst. On top of being lightheaded and incoherent from the pain medicine, you MUST get up and walk around the recovery room to avoid blood clotting. I don't remember too much from that walk, except how incredibly difficult it was to get out of bed, stay focused long enough to make it around the room, and then get back into bed. The nurses said I did great, but from what I remember it seemed to take me an hour to make it around the room.
Unfortunately there weren't any private recovery rooms available on the bariatric floor so I had to share with a fellow bariatric patient. At first I was dissapointed about this, wanting privacy while I was trying to join the living again. After I was settled in though, it was nice to have a companion. We were both going through the same things at the same time (only different she was a band patient) but we were able to commeserate with each other about what we were going through. I was sad to see her leave the following day.
I woke up about every two hours, either in a bit of pain or nurses coming in to check your blood pressure, blood sugar, drain, etc.. I would push the friendly drug button and then drift back into a light sleep.
The first morning after surgery I began my campaign to get out of the hospital that day. I knew it was a long shot but I wanted to stay in the hospital as little possible. The surgical residents who came to examine me basically in so many words told me there was no way in hades I was leaving that day. I guess in hindsight I looked pretty rough and out of it, not able to really take care of myself as much as you need to at home. I was very dissapointed. I wanted so badly to go home and see my children. I know now that it was for the best to stay the extra day. It gave me the time I needed to sit and rest, and start to get used to all of the changes that were happening.
After the surgical residents and nurses come in for their morning rounds, the wonderful team from nutrition come in. These people were my least favorite during my hospital stay. They fool you when the knock, come in and say "nutrition!" What they mean to say is "I'm here to bring you your hospital food, not that you're going to eat it". When I first saw my tray of nutrition, I thought to myself, "Really???? You expect me to eat ANY of that??" Not that it was disgusting or unappetizing (most food plates consisted of sugar free jello, broth, water, and crystal light) but that it was almost impossible for me to think of injesting any sort of food at that point. The first day I stuck with the water. Along with the food comes medicine cups, which are meant to be consumed with either the jello or liquid during the hour. The nurses come in and make sure you are consuming your liquids. To be quite frank, I lied. I would tell the nurses I was working on it, but the morning and afternoon after surgery I couldn't consume anything. When I did eat a bit of jello, I had nausea and had a terrible fear they would not let me go the following day (Nausea is a big concern of the nurses and doctors - extreme nausea means you may throw up and they don't want that to happen once you are released). I powered through it and only had to ask for nasuea medication once, which worked really well! Lunch and dinner trays came in during that first day, and it was much of the same. I was able to drink maybe two or three sips and even that was a challenge.
In addition to the nutrition, nurses and doctors want to make sure you are mobile, which means a lot of walks. I made sure I got out of bed, however difficult, and walked around the floor at least every two hours. They tell you it helps in recovery and I am a strong believer in that. At 2:00 a.m. that night I couldn't sleep so I went for a walk. Walking also broke up the monotony of being in the hospital bed.
The following morning at day break I began my plea to be released. The surgical residents told me how great I looked that day and said I would be able to be released if my blood work came back fine and I was doing well with nutrition and walking. I begged to have my IV lines and drain removed, and it felt great when they were all gone. It was still difficult to get in and out of bed, but I was able to shower (with some help from my husband) and put regular clothes on. How great that felt!! Combing my hair and wearing regular clothes helped get me pumped to leave the hospital.
Before I left physical therapy came by to offer me some products to assist me at home while I was recovering. I only picked two of them seeing that most of them would I would not use. I use the grabber frequently at home, helping me pick up things off the floor since bending down was not allowed. I'm very thankful for picking up that little piece of equipment.
It finally came!! I was ready to go home. Parting gifts included a nice water bottle and pedometer which I though was wonderful! I waved goodbye to my wonderful nurses and I was out of there!
Here I come, Home Sweet Home.
