When pre-sleeved, I wondered what it was going to feel like right after the surgery. i read everything I could, but I still wanted more, more, more. I'm writing about my experiences to give back to the community that helped me prepare for this surgery. It's a very long post but hopefully it answers some questions about what we might go through, physically, mentally and emotionally.
I'm 5'6, HW 230, SW 222, CW 215.4 and I'm 47 years old.
Day of Surgery (Friday)
I find myself calm, not nervous and ready and prepared thanks to hours spent on this site. I move to a gurney where they inject me, and the next thing i know I'm waking up and there's an oxygen mask on my nose.I keep trying to take it off, and they tell me not to, that I need the oxygen. I fight it a little. Finally, I say I know I'm not supposed to take it off, but I need to breathe, I'll put it back. The doctor checks on me and sees me fighting it, and says it's okay to take it off. I tell them I'm nauseated and they give me something.
I feel so little pain that in my dream state, I keep waking up from a half-sleep thinking, Oh I have to go to surgery today. And then my brain reminds me it's already over. I can't believe it. My husband comes out of his surgery and once he is awake, I make him walk with me. We push our IVs along, marveling at how okay we feel.
I'm okay, he's not so great. He's nauseated his chest feels tight, but there's not too much pain. We walk all day in little bits. My mouth is dry but I rinse it several times, and use my chapstick. We're fine.
Night-time is not fun. Nurses in and out every two hours, injecting one or the other of us. R has really bad heartburn so I'm trying to take care of him. We get through the night.
First Day Post-Op (Saturday)
Cannot WAIT for the ice chips! such a gourmet treat! They arrive and we find we can't really eat them as we should. Two little ice chips and it feels like you have an elephant on your chest. R is worrying about shoulder and chest pain, and I assure him it's not a heart-attack, just gas pains, and keep walking. I nap a lot. He sneaks out and overdoes the walking and increases his pain. But the doc says his gut sounds better than mine, and to keep in mind that pain & symptoms don't mean a poor recovery.
I wonder how the heck we'll ever consume 64 oz of fluid.
Second Day Post Op (Sunday)
Time to go home. We get a bottle of grape juice. Yum! but again, can't imagine how I will finish that little 8 oz bottle. We drive for 12 hours today. Well, I drive. R sleeps the whole time, which is how his body recovers from anything he ever has. I'm happy to be able to do this for him. We stop in Austin to see my son, try to drink some Unjury chicken. The warm soup feels good. We sleep for an hour and I'm refreshed enough to drive home. Keep trying to drink, probably didn't even get in 16 oz this day.
That night, I force the fluids and I'm miserable. Walking up and down the hallways after a long day. I realize this is a lesson. If I ever overdo the food, this is what it's going to feel like. No bueno.
This is my "WTF did I just do?" day. Thanks to this forum, I know that's common and I let the emotions come.
Third Day Post Op (Monday)
Lots of sleeping going on but guess what? We can drink easier now! At least 38-40 oz today including a Nectar Fuzzy Navel! I'm amazed at the progress in just three days. I stop the pain pills. R is cranky and depressed today.We're arguing about stupid sh*t. I tell him it's the hormones, the trauma, the lack of calories and carbs and that it will all be okay. I do 20 mins on a stationary cycle, R walks the dog a mile.
Now my brain shifts to the big changes. Such as, if I'm not always thinking of food, what am I going to do with that spare time?
I kid you not. My existential crisis? What the hell am I going to pin on Pinterest now if not recipes?? I realize front and center food has been in my life and am so grateful we were able to get this surgery.
Fourth Day Post Op (Tuesday)
Feeling like a pro today! I forget I've had surgery and gulp. Ouch. But a shake, an unjury chicken soup, egg drop soup, 2 G-2s, and 2 popsicles! Yay me!
So of course, now that is good, I'm the weepy one today. There's nothing wrong, I just want to cry. But I don't cry easily so even though I try, I can't cry .
No pain, all good. R gets energy back. I'm not there yet and want to sleep. We go out to get something, I'm exhausted. But I do 2 ten minute sessions on the stationary bike. We try Chike with caffeine. Mistake. Feel sick.
Today I make an important decision. In the past, I've always focused on the outcome. Was I losing weight? No? Then let me change my diet AGAIN. How about now? No? So what if it's only been 4 days I better change again. This time, I will not do that. There's a plan here. 800 calories, 80 gms of protein, less than 50 of carbs, 64 oz of water, and walking/cycling. That's it. Until I hit goal, that's the plan. Focus on the plan and the results will follow. I know this from reading others' experiences. I decide to focus on my actions and let go of the outcome. Big move for a control freak
I tell R that now that I am not constantly searching for the best diet, the superfoods, the one ultimate way to lose weight, It has freed up so much psychic energy, that I'm shocked at how much of my time I had devoted to obsessing about my weight. I chose the best way for me. The time to stop looking is over. Time to start DOING.
Fifth Day Post Op (Wednesday)
Liquids not a problem. Protein not a problem. Can you believe that? It's only day 5 but we're getting all liquids in. What a change. I can NOT stay awake and sleep from 9:30 am - 12:30 pm though.
Work intrudes and I take 3 meetings over the phone. Couldn't have done that without the nap. I feel energized. We go out to run and errand and go to the grocery store to buy ingredients for soup which we will start on Saturday while the kids are home. The grocery is full of sample ladies and although I rarely ate samples, it's a different feeling when you can't. I feel different to everyone around me. I realize that I'm different from the others around me in one more new way, but it's a way that doesn't show, unlike my skin, my weight, my ethnicity. It makes me feel like I'm harboring a secret. Weird feeling.
I am happy I'll be able to cook again. I make my son an omelet with cheese, and I find I'm a little tempted but not bad. But I've had food dreams all day today. I want a grilled cheese sandwich with the crisp outer crust and the gooey cheese, I want tomato soup, I want chicken kebabs, I want, I want. I drink my shake. I will do nothing to compromise my recovery.
Sixth Day Post Op (Thursday)
The day has just started who knows what awaits, but R has lost 20 lbs in 3 weeks, and I've lost 15 lbs. Last time I lost 15 lbs it took 6 months of clean eating and walking 4 miles a day. I'll take this!
I now believe that I will lose the weight. I was sure I was going to be that freak of nature that couldn't lose it because I only lost 6 lbs on 2 weeks of pre-op, but now I believe. Today we will do our liquids, our protein, our walk/cycle and tomorrow will be a better day.
My next goal? Visualize myself thin, and be able to see myself wearing cute clothes and start pinning those on Pinterest. Not there yet.
Today is Sunday, September 4 and I am in the Holiday Inn Express in San Diego with my daughter, 48 hours after being sleeved. This is my “sleeve” experience and I must say some of this was shocking to me - but perhaps it will not be to you.
We flew to San Diego from North Idaho and stayed at the Hampton Inn as recommended. The next morning we met at the Jet Blue terminal and discovered several others waiting for the same ride. There were 4 sleevers, 2 lap banders, and one lifter. We all met - took a few pictures and talked about our procedures etc. There were 3 guests that accompanied their respective person. We stood around for about 45 minutes for the van to arrive. We all piled in - our luggage got stowed and off we went. It took about 20 minutes to get to the border and the houses and shops are quite shocking to someone who has not experienced this type of poverty. We were definitely passing by a very poor area of San Diego. We laughed at a sign along I5 that said “GUNS ARE ILLEGAL IN MEXICO”. Arriving at the border, there are lots and lots of people packing guns - so expect it. We got through pretty quickly and the next twenty minutes made me look up and thank the good Lord that I was born an American. I cannot describe the shacks and shops that were put together seemingly with any leftover construction material. As we moved closer to “town” it became less shocking and before you know it there was a COSTCO and a Office Depot and we were there - Jerusalem Clinica.
So here’s the part that bothered me before..but now I suppose it wasn’t that big of a deal. I just wished someone had described the waiting game. Here it is.
You get unloaded from the van and all the smokers and guests remained outside chatting and puffing. There were 6 patients that turned in our passport to be copied and placed with our “medical info” on a separate clipboard. The reception area is VERY small - a couch for 3 and a couch for 2 and a bathroom that is not 30” wide….really. So we sat around for about 30 minutes wondering who would be first and what was next etc. Finally they started calling us in behind the auspicious door “hospitale” and we had our blood drawn. Then about every 15 to 20 minutes they took someone “away”. I later found out that away was upstairs in a very small lobby much like the one we just left - with two small bedrooms (2 beds each) and another small bathroom. We met Juan (pink shirt - always) - paid our balance, signed a document all in Spanish…I could have just enlisted in the Mexican Armed Forces for all I know. We got dressed down in either the bedroom or the bathroom, sat out on the couches - men - women together - total strangers in a sea of “WTH” have I done? Then they again had us go into one of the bedrooms and stick your legs in the air to cover with ace bandages and who cares if someone else came in to ask the nurse or doctor something - your business…I guess was anyone’s business. Then we had an EKG by an elderly (really old guy) cardiologist and were basically told at this point who was first, second etc… I was third in line so Ava went first followed by Gem and then me. So from this point - the experience is all mine.
MY turn - I walked back downstairs to the O.R. making sure I wasn’t flashing my ample cheeks to anyone (the gowns are about a size 5X or bigger) and mine was hanging quite low. Anyway I walk into the “restricted” in Spanish doors and there is the table. OK. Don’t panic when you see that the fake naughtier is rubbing off of the side things that come out to hold either your legs or your arms. I smiled, climbed upon the table and said - bring on the happy juice and they did. I don’t remember another thing…it was that fast.
So I wake up in one of the bedrooms upstairs (I didn’t know there were two more downstairs and only ONE has a lazy boy chair and a single bed. ) Sorry to all of you who got to see the video with that room because like me you assumed your guest would have a place to sleep. Katie and another guest - slept out on the upstairs lobby couches with the TV on all night long. (TAKE EARPLUGS!!!) I was told I walked up the stairs after surgery but I have no memory of that or of them getting me into bed. I was not in pain but I woke up and recognized that I was uncomfortable…like maybe something had happened to my stomach. YEAH!! I slept fitfully that night partially because I had to get up and go potty 5 times and felt bad about my daughter sleeping on the couch but just as much because my roommate Eva or Ava and poor Gem had the dry heaves all night. They looked pretty sorry in the morning…but stay tuned…they did get better the next day.
In the morning _ I assumed we would ALL be going to recovery house and so Katie and I packed up our suitcases and so did Celestine. (We got up at 6 just because we wanted ICE CUBES - anything. They brought us these ice cubes that were GIANT - I mean 1.5 inches round!) Still we didn’t care.
And then we hear, Sorry…only two people can go to Recovery House. (To be continued!) Reb
The scale finally moved again!!! It didn't happen all at once, but I went from 227 lbs to 216 lbs. I am very happy and pleased with that lost. My work schedule has been absolutely brutal as of late. I get home so late, that going to the gym as been off my radar. This the last week though, and I vowed to myself that I will start again. I actually do miss it.
This brings me to my next piece of news. We have decided not to wait until November before getting pregnant !!! The doctor suggested between 12 to 18 months. My labs for my yearly check up were fantastic, so we are moving forward with the baby!!!! The hubby and I went away this weekend( the after picture was taken last night after dinner). While were talking he expressed how happy and proud he was of me( VERY UNUSUAL) and how he couldn't wait for the baby. I am happy with were I am. So I figured why wait?!
So it is vital for me that I start exercising again, and keep my body tone and healthy.
