Calamity Jane

So the PA I saw on Tuesday wants me to journal what I eat and exercise. Fine. But I suck at doing that stuff in a timely manner. Luckily, I'm pretty boring and eat mostly the same stuff. On work days, a protein shake for breakfast because I am lazy and don't give myself enough time to cook. Lunch, either a bastardized peanut butter sandwich on those deli flat things (seriously - those things are weird. I don't know if I like them or not...but they're only 100 calories and it beats getting peanut butter on my hands) or a protein bar. Dinner, chicken or fish and some kind of vegetable. Varies on what's in the house. I'm supposed to stay under 1200 calories a day. I "journaled" all of the things consumed for the past few days and I'm only getting like 800 calories a day, if that. But I'm stopping eating when I'm full and basically only eating protein. On weekends, I seem to eat more (in that I'm having an actual breakfast), but even then, the breakfast is still only like 1/4 cup of egg whites and 1/4 cup shredded cheese. The PA showed me the sample plate they have that shows you how much of the plate should be protein, how much should be vegetables and how much should be grains/starches (I guess - I never actually make it that far into a meal and I couldn't find a link to the plate online). I'm eating about half of that at any given time. I mean, I knew I'd be eating less after the surgery but I didn't realize how much less until I logged it. On a sorta kinda not really related note, I have been thinking about where my weight problem started, how it started, etc...and I can't come up with a single point. I was a small child until like the end of second grade. My mom got pregnant and we all got fat. I don't know if that time coincided with the "you aren't leaving this table until you finish everything on your plate" time, but it could have. And honestly, if I had been given child sized portions and not enough food to feed a damn viking, maybe I could have stopped eating when I was full instead of having to be a member of the clean plate club. In their defense, my family is Italian. They get O F F E N D E D when you don't eat their cooking. But still. Maybe it was when my mom tried to use exercise as a punishment that I started equating exercise with suckage. Maybe not teaching my sister and I about moderation and the "ban" on "junk food" led us to hoard the aforementioned "junk food" and hoover it up when we had it. The mentality my sister and I had with "junk food" was of the "planes goin' down, smoke 'em if you got 'em" type. Because getting caught with junk food was almost as bad as leaving the table without having consumed enough food to feed a starving nation. Maybe I just need to get past all of that, but I can't really ever remember a time where I had any sort of healthy attitude towards food. I can't fully blame my upbringing. I've been living on my own for almost 10 years now. It's weird that it took me THAT long to readjust my thinking and such, Like I said, I suck at doing things in a timely manner...

I had my first fill today. Since I was banded (4/30/12), I have had zero difficulty in eating anything. I haven't had any stuck episodes, I haven't thrown up. It's been all good, except for the first few days. I didn't know if I'd get a fill or not since my surgeon puts fluid in the band when the surgery is done. My appointment was at 9:00am. I made these appointments early so I wouldn't miss too much work. By 11, they still couldn't find the port. The PA tried to find it blindly by poking at my stomach like I was the effin Pillsbury Doughboy and going "wow, there's a lot of scar tissue". Instead of doing the logical thing and NOT just kind of guessing where the port is, she tried to give my scar tissue a fill. Thanks. I'm thrilled that you're just poking me at random with a giant needle. It's cool. I needed some excitement in my life. We went down to radiology and I got to have that NOT MORTIFYING AT ALL EXPERIENCE again, but this time in a hospital gown. With an audience! Alright!! I guess it could be considered humbling (still trying to make that work), but really, it's just mortifying for me to be laying on a table with people I don't know poking at my stomach. I'm not exactly proud of my physique. Hell, I'll keep a tank top on if I'm having sex because of the way my stomach looks. Everybody's allowed to have a thing and that's mine. My ex was really self conscious about his rib cage. Everybody's got a thing. I could give two shits about my arm batwings or my rugby player calves. My thighs aren't bad (cause all the weight settled in my calves?), but I don't like my stomach exposed. Anyway, after what felt like an eternity of the PA and the radiology tech poking at me, they located and filled the band. I know it's ridiculous to be as upset as I was about all of the poking and prodding, but I ended up not going to work. Thank you, FMLA time, for making my neuroses possible. On the downside, I'm working Saturday, unless I can fit 8 hours of time into three workdays. It's supposed to be nice on Saturday, and my cousin finally got the pool open, and I do need some color (seriously - I'm the whitest full blooded Italian ever - the dayglo dago), so I will attempt to squeeze in 8 hours of time into three days. That's an extra two hours and some change every day. I think I can do it. Cue the Rocky music, I'm basically living at work for the next 3 days. On the upside, I've lost 24 pounds since being banded. Apparently that's the good end of normal, so I'm happy. I was concerned that I might not be losing weight as fast as I should be, but my clothes fit better (and in some instances, fit properly for the first time) and it's sorta noticeable. I'm kind of mourning the loss of my once spectacular rack, though. I was talking with my friend yesterday and I was like "I can't explain it, but the big boobs are a part of me. I've always been the funny girl with the huge rack. I feel weird losing that". He didn't understand, though. I think it could be that he's never had boobs and therefore does not know what it's like when they pull this incredible shrinking routine. I kind of forgot where I was going with this. I ramble on too damn much.

Thanks. I try not to sugarcoat things. Sometimes it's necessary, though.

I looked up my claims from my surgery... $2712.00 for the anesthesia - contracted insurance rate $1368 - $0 patient liability $38,378.25 for the surgery - contracted insurance rate $11,786.35 - $250 patient liability - I take offense to them charging $2980 of that (contracted: $934) for "accomodations". I've stayed in crapass hotels that were nicer accomodations. The surgery itself is $10,482.50 (contracted: $3287.75). The same surgery that people have to cross the border to get done because their insurance won't cover it. The contracted is (in this case) being covered in full by my insurance. The contracted amount probably wouldn't even cover the cost of the plane tickets and accomodations. Because this is normally a situation where I would use a lot of profanity, I will just say that it isn't fair and that it makes me sad. I mean, the differences between the contractual amount and what they actually charge is astronomical. And if people with insurance couldn't get an authorization approved, why can't they be charged the contractual amount to make self pay an actual option? I am LUCKY that I have good insurance. And I am so happy that I rarely have to use it. Speaking of my health insurance, I'm even luckier that my employer pays for the bulk of my insurance. My job is monotonous and boring, but it's a hell of a company. Today, Day 14, was my first day back at that monotonous and boring life suck. Now, since I've had my surgery, I've had puckering at the incision site where the tools were inserted. I don't know what the hell it is (well...was) - it was painful, it was where I thought my port was (that, ironically, doesn't hurt at ALL), and it looked like a doughy bellybuttony (yes, I know that's not a word) abyss. Today, I was at work and I bent at the waist while sitting down to pick something up (I kinda forgot that I shouldn't do that quite yet) and I felt a popping feeling and then the dent was gone. There's no bleeding, no bruising and less pain than there was before. I called my surgeon's office and they said that it sounds like I popped a stitch, but since it's not bleeding, bruising or tender/hot to the touch, that it should heal itself. I ended up leaving my first day back at work two hours early. I was just overwhelmed with all of the change that took place in the two weeks that I was gone, and then the popping feeling - which I could not find JACK about on google - I worried myself sick and went home. On the way home, I almost trusted a fart that wasn't. I called my friend and told her that. New life rule: never trust a fart. I went to GNC yesterday and got this SUPER ULTRA MEGA PROTEIN SHAKE (not sure of the exact name and I'm too lazy to go and look). 12oz water + 3 scoops = 160 calories, 60g of protein. The guy working at GNC was shifty looking, though. Kind of like Draco Malfoy. Yeah, I wasn't sure where I was going with this. I'm doing pureed foods now (sort of - mostly the stuff on the list that's already pureed or can be mashed like whitefish or tuna), tolerating everything. I bought cottage cheese to try again, because the first time I tried it, I thought it was gross and vocalized that to my sister. I will not repeat what I said because it was SO gross, but I figure maybe it's an acquired taste. If not, I'm just confirming that I don't like cottage cheese. Yeah, I think I need to go to bed.

That's the best way I can describe it. This was originally where I thought my port was. It was a puckered spot on my right side, almost aligned with the incision above my belly button. This is the spot where it would hurt if I coughed, sneezed, etc...maybe dimpled is a better adjective. Basically, you could stick your finger in it. Like dough, almost. Today, I was at work and I bent at the waist while sitting down to pick something up (I kinda forgot that I shouldn't do that quite yet) and I felt a popping feeling and then the dent was gone. There's no bleeding, no bruising and less pain than there was before. I called my surgeon's office and they said that it sounds like I popped a stitch, but since it's not bleeding, bruising or tender/hot to the touch, that it should heal itself. Has anybody else had any experience with this? Don't get me wrong, I'm glad that the thing I had dubbed as belly button 2.0 is gone, I just can't shake the feeling that I did something to screw up... For what it's worth, my mom had a gastric bypass surgery in 2009 and she had the same dent. Hers is still kind of there, though.

Day 10. I had my first follow up appointment yesterday and they said I can incorporate pureed stuff and other foods when I feel that I can handle them. Which is good because I could only do two days of cream soup before I realized that I pretty much hate soup. Especially cream soup. But I did have a tomato parmesean bisque that didn't suck. I rarely, if ever, want soup. Most of the soup I've ever consumed in my life has been convenience soup (soup that was already made for dinner). I had some oatmeal yesterday and white fish today. I ate way less than I thought I would eat. Normally, I'd have eaten the whole piece but I only ate about 1/3 of it and was full. Which was cool. It's interesting to eat like a "normal" person as opposed to eating everything that isn't nailed down. I wonder if it's possible to have forgotten what feeling "full" feels like? I think it is. I got my clearance to go back to work on Monday, which I have mixed feelings about. On one hand, I'm bored as hell being off. I watched Season 3 of Full House today. The whole damn thing. On the other hand, I sorta hate the monotony of my job and have NOT missed being in a place where I think people take the rhetorical question "how stupid can you be?" as a challenge. But sitting on my ass watching Full House reruns doesn't pay well or have health insurance, so I guess I have to go back to work. I'd like to win the lottery, but it's a Catch-22, because you can't win if you don't play and I can't justify buying lottery tickets. I'm a terrible gambler. I lose interest in being in a casino after like 20 minutes. Yeah...I don't know where I was going with that. Anyway, I feel pretty good. Incisions are still a little sore, but it's not to the point where it's an unbearable pain. They said that there was no problem with the one steristrip falling off and that covering it with a band aid was fine. Healing's going well, which is a relief. You always read about horrible complications and when they don't happen, you feel relieved that your life didn't turn into an episode of House, M.D. I don't really have anything interesting to write about, so I'll just stop with the rambling now...

I was a daily pot smoker before the surgery. I didn't smoke the day of the surgery or the days I was in the hospital. I smoked both the second day being home. I'm fine. I don't have the munchies, which seems to be a huge point of contention for some people. If anything, I've found that cotton mouth isn't a problem because of all of the fluids I'm drinking. It was something I was looking into before the surgery and the only responses I saw were basically "DON'T SMOKE WEED DRUGS ARE BAD MMKAY!" - nothing stating what would happen if I DID smoke. The first day, I honestly didn't want to. I just wanted to sleep. The second day, the weed REALLY helped with any residual nausea and I honestly feel better. It's a personal choice, though. Only do what you can when you're ready. You got your band a day after I did - how are you feeling?

Today's Day 7. I'm allowed to start full liquids, hot cereal, yogurt & cream soups today. And skim milk. I can have a cup of coffee. I actually sang Lionel Richie's 'Hello' to my coffee pot a few minutes ago. I am way too excited over coffee. I had some cream of wheat (for the first time in my life, actually) earlier and I feel fine. I don't feel nauseous or anything. The port site is a little bit sore. I sneezed this morning and had an "OMGWTF" pain moment. I think that's normal. My main incision left some blood spots on my shirt that I slept in where the first steri strip fell off (I think it came off too early). It's not a ton of blood, so I'm going to hold off on calling. I have an appointment on Wednesday, anyways. Yesterday (Day 6) was pretty good, aside from the aforementioned port pain. I actually went to the grocery store and managed to buy what I needed, yet not make it weigh more than a gallon of milk (the most weight I can lift). I had a friend come and move my TV BACK to my living room from my bedroom -- I moved the rest of the stuff (cable box, dvd player), piece by piece so it wasn't too heavy. The ONE friend (who is more an acquaintance I go to happy hour with than anything) out of the six that I asked. Five people who had told me 'if you need anything after your surgery, call!'. Well I texted and called. Nobody answered. See who comes and hangs out with you after YOUR surgery next time. Or who is there when you need a ride to the store or to the laundromat. I'm doing everything my damn self; figure out a way to do things without me constantly driving you around. I'm sorry, but I'm currently super disgusted with the people who are supposed to be my friends. End angry rant. My laundry basket also currently weighs less than a gallon of milk, so I think I'm going to do that at some point this week, too. Maybe on Wednesday after my appointment. I figure I'll already be out, I can get an oil change and get some laundry done. I'm basically "resting" (sitting around) at each of those places except when the laundry needs moved from the washer to the dryer and folded, so it's not like it's "heavy housework". Also, since when is vacuuming "heavy housework"? You're walking around, pushing something that pretty much moves on its own. And now that I've rambled on for 30 minutes, I'm going to drink my coffee.

Yeah, I thought I'd be OK to go back in a week. Now, I'm really glad I took a second week off. Yes, the explosive diarrhea will ruin your day. Today is better, definitely. I haven't weighed myself yet. I didn't own a scale before because it was just too damn depressing to look at how high the number had gotten, so I'm going to buy one tomorrow. Hope your surgery goes well!

That's what I'm calling it, anyways. I use the term 'mulligan' to mean a do-over. And that's exactly what I feel like I have. I've been incredibly overweight since like the third grade. I'm going to be 29 in July. In the past, dieting hasn't worked for me. I needed a jumping off point to make the changes that I wanted to make and see the results that I want to see. I recently had lap-band surgery with gastric plication (April 30th). I want to keep track of my post-op/recovery/progress and I figure blogging it will give me more accountability. This is copied & pasted from my personal blog, with some editing for language. I swear a lot. I use the word 'f**k' like it's a comma, so I'm trying to not do that. I didn't edit out the TMI. Day 0 - Day of the surgery - 4/30/12 - arrived at the hospital at 5:45 in the morning, everything went quickly with the check in and I was in surgery by 7:30. I don't remember too much about surgery day. Day 1 - Day after - 5/1/12 - I was supposed to be discharged on the 1st, because the procedure itself is an "outpatient overnight" procedure. I had the plication in addition to the band, so I had some additional nausea & couldn't keep any liquids down. I had an x-ray where I had to drink contrast material and it was the most agonizing ten minutes of the day. I should've been able to drink an 8oz medicine cup of water every half hour - instead, I was nauseous (the antiemetics didn't help at all), dry heaving & vomiting all day. One of the nurses was really nasty, like "You're not vomiting, hun, you don't have anything in your stomach". a - don't call me 'hun' in a condescending tone. I'll smack you with my giant hand (the IV line in my hand wasn't in the vein and the IV fluid went into my damn hand. It was comically oversized until the 3rd) and b - look in this basin. Tell me what that is if it's not vomit. It's stomach acid and blood. Which tasted just DELIGHTFUL coming up. The painkillers didn't do much except make me MORE nauseous. I couldn't watch TV, I brought a book - couldn't read it, I couldn't play around on my phone, I couldn't talk to anybody - not because those weren't options but because I was too weak and gross feeling to do any of them - all I wanted to do was puke and sleep. Day 2 - 5/2/12 - I woke up around 9/930 after sleeping on and off - I was waking up every hour, pretty much. I'd try and drink water and just kind of swish it around in my mouth and spit it out if I couldn't swallow. By the time I "woke up", I was able to keep water down and the nausea had mostly subsided. The pain was minimal. Something to take the edge off is nice, but it's not like a 10 on the 1-10 pain scale. The doctor came in to see me around 11 and asked how I was feeling. I said that I was ready to go and he said that I could be discharged around 4. I asked if it could be around 2 instead, because I didn't want to spend one more minute in the hospital. Around 3, my dad showed up to pick me up (even though I told him I'd be discharged at 2 -- but my irritation with my father's inability to be on time, ever, for ANYTHING is another entry for another time) - my best friend (who I refer to as my heterosexual life mate - kind of like Jay & Silent Bob) was already there and we were ready to get out of there. We left the hospital and the drive home kind of sucked. I was still a little nauseated and I was still dry heaving. FYI - when you're a passenger in the back seat of a car and you feel nauseated; ask the front seat passenger to roll up their window. Otherwise the air blasting into your face will make you sick. I dry heaved up some water and stomach acid on the drive home and again in the grocery store parking lot. We stopped to drop off my prescriptions and my dad dropped us off at my house. I tried to smoke a cigarette and smoked about three hits before I didn't want anymore. I tried to drink some tea, but I really just wanted to go to sleep. My heterosexual life mate put the window AC in while I took a shower and after, we tried to sit and watch a movie but I just wanted to lay down. I slept most of the day and woke up around 10ish. After that, I'd nod on and off, still waking up every hour or so. But at some point, the nausea dissipated and I wasn't throwing up or dry heaving anymore. Day 3 - 5/3/12 - Felt OK most of the day. I drank the required 64oz of clear liquids, showered, put makeup on and actually left the house. I had little to no nausea and a little pain. Zero problems getting up and walking around. I drank some chicken broth that night and my stomach started making the gurgling noises and it kind of felt like an assplosion was in my future. Day 4 - 5/4/12 - Shitty day. Literally. Explosive diarrhea doesn't even begin to describe the poo river that's been flowing today. I called the doctor and they said diarrhea is normal and, oh, by the way, I might crap myself. Their exact words were "don't be alarmed if you go to pass gas, and you pass more than gas". SUPER! JUST WHAT I'VE ALWAYS ASPIRED TO DO IN LIFE! (false) So everytime I feel gassy, I haul ass to the bathroom. I think I could be a little dehydrated because I don't think that I have had enough fluid today to replace the mississhitty river that I've crapped out. I'm trying to get down a glass of tea now, so I'm hoping I feel LESS crappy. If not, at least Get-Go is open 24 hours and I can go get some gatorade. It's also humid & I'm sweating, so I'm not too sure that's helping me feel less gross. I want to take a cold shower but I feel shitty and weak and I don't feel like standing up in the shower. And I don't think a bath is a good idea just because when you take a bath, you're basically sitting in your dirty bathwater and I don't know if that's a good idea for incisions. I have a cramp in my right side and I just don't want to even move. Day 5 - 5/5/12 - I woke up and still felt gross. I took a shower and that didn't help me feel any better, but one of the steri-strips fell off. I went and got some gatorade a few hours ago and my stomach doesn't sound like it's in a constant state of unrest. I still have the cramp in my right side, though. It's below where the port site is and I think it's just from the excessive bathroom activity of yesterday. Aside from the cramp and the pain at the port site, everything else is good. No nausea, no vomiting, no diarrhea - just a little sore and extremely bored. The pain medication says to take every 4 hours, but I really don't need that much of it, which is cool. So far as the boredom goes, weekends are usually my clean house/run errands/do laundry time, and I cleaned the hell out of my apartment (and the common area hallway) the day before the surgery. I ran all my errands that I could possibly have to run for the next month the day before the surgery. I did all of my laundry the day before the surgery. So it's not like I have a ton of laundry to do or a ton of things to do, even, but I just want to be doing something... I don't know what I'm going to do with myself for another entire week off of work...

My surgeon told me that the plication didn't have a billable code yet, and he couldn't bill for it in addition to the surgery. The surgery itself was covered at 100% - I believe I have a $250 hospital admission copay since I had to stay an additional day (instead of the $150 hospital services copay it would've been if I had been outpatient/overnight), but I haven't received any bills yet. BCBS of MA's website sucks and I can't really view my benefits information. I pulled my EOBs, but the surgery claim hasn't been processed through yet. We'll see.

They do a test? That sucks. I don't think mine did any test to confirm I was "smoke free". I hear you on the boredom. That's one of the hardest parts about quitting. That and finding something to do with your hands. When I didn't want to smoke, I painted my nails. I could do a detailed manicure and it'd get my mind off of smoking for at least an hour.