We flew into Boca Raton on Sunday afternoon, found our hotel and got our bearings. On Monday, I went to the medical center and had my pre-op work done. They took my information, drew my blood, took chest x-rays, and an EKG. Everything checked out fine and I was asked to arrive in the morning at 6:00am.

I was nervous, but felt somewhat removed. I'd resolved to do this, survived the interminable two week liquid diet, taken my "before" pics; I was ready, but I wasn't sure I knew what I was in for. Surgery weight: 239.4--Wooohooo!

Pre-surgery, I was asked to change into a giant paper gown and booties. They put an I.V. in my arm and a myriad of people came to meet me; the anesthesiologist, the intern, the nurses, and the surgeon. I sent a text to my family and told them I was going in and that I loved them. The anesthesiologist came back and told me he was going to give me something to relax. He explained that this wasn't the "sleep" medication, just relaxation, but I honestly don't remember anything after that!

I woke up in recovery, but was so groggy, all I remember is hearing the nurse say she would call my mother. Then I was in my hospital room. The nurse explained that my pump had morphine and I could push the button when I had pain. I pushed it a lot. The hours after surgery are so hazy.... I know the surgeon came in and explained that the surgery went well, that he'd repaired my hiatal hernia (who knew I had a hernia?!) and that I'd done well with my liquid diet. I pushed the button every chance I had, and slept most of these hours. Part way through the night my breath rate dropped, apparently too much morphine makes you forget to breathe! My nurse came in and asked me if I was having pain. I wasn't, but I was terribly nauseous. So, I decided to stop pushing the morphine. A few hours later (time was surreal at this point), I felt okay. No more nausea, so I decided to try to walk. My nurse was surprised, but she helped me. I made it about 15 feet and had to go back to bed. Too nauseated again. I tried again a short while later. The first night, I walked four times! By morning I felt pretty good, sore, but not pained.

Then I was sent to radiology for a swallow test. I've seen gastografin before, but what they handed me was like the worst poison in the world. I managed three tiny sips, stood like a statue for the imaging, and retched uncontrollably. Thankfully, they had the images they needed and I returned to my room.

Those three tiny sips sent me spiraling. I was nauseated for hours and my stomach hurt.

When I'd recovered from that I was given a pitcher of water and several medicine cups and told to start sipping. Sipping hurt! I failed at this until the nurse explained that I had to drink, or would not be released the next day. So I walked, and I sipped, sipped, sipped, walked......

All of this was over a week ago, and I'm home now. I am surprised to find myself struggling. I've got the sipping thing down, but can barely get in 48 oz, and force myself to finish 64 oz. I'm still on full liquid, and have not figured out how to schedule all of my protein drinks. So, I'm super tired. The pain has decreased dramatically, and I can walk easily for 30 mins now.

So I have written out a schedule for myself, hour by hour, of how much I have to have in. So WEIRD to struggle with water! I am not hungry, but have had a few moments of foreshadowing where I get a "craving" for something. Makes me laugh because my head has no understanding of this new reality.