Cagair
Send Message

Block

Add Friend

My Surgery Story

So, after 4 years of back and forth, I finally found a Dr who I am was not only comfortable with but had the comfort of putting my life in his hands. After all the tests - Cardio (Dibutamine Echo), Pulminary, Labs, Psych eval and Thankfully NO sleep study because I had already been previously diagnosed with Sleep Apnea, I was ready. My husband felt ready. He just got a new job that was going to make him travel, so his Mother was coming in from Seattle to help with me.

Dr Mitchell had one condition on my surgery. I had to loose 15-20 lbs from Aug 3rd to Aug 30th. I had to check in on the 13th to see how I was. I could only eat Meat and Dairy. No fruit, no veggies, no breads, nothing.    By Aug 13, I was terrified. I didn't think it was working. I didn't feel any different, but there it was, when I got on the scale I had lost 11 lbs. From the 3rd to the 13th. That really sparked me. He said we would move forward and unless I gained - surgery was on!

The big day came. Aug 30th. I'm 65 miles from the hospital in Pinhurst, NC (I'm in Raleigh). I was first on the schedule and my check in was 5:30am . This means I had to get up at 3:30am and leave by 4am.. My Dad and Aunt had flown in the night before and were also driving down from Raleigh. They got to the hospital just as I had gotten into my fun hospital gown and hair net. My Dad said it was really important to see me before I went in. They weighed me and I was sitting at 445. 22lbs total - 2 more than he asked for!!

There was no down time or wasted time. They rolled me into a room where they got my IV set up. They rolled me into the OR and I remember thinking - this is not what I expected to see. Kind of like - it's not what I've seen on TV. Getting from the gurny to the table was fun! (*sarcasm). But once on it I felt like I was laying on a cross. The nurse hooked up something to my IV and said... "We are going to get you a little relaxed but we're not going to put you under yet"... Of course that was the last thing I remember . The next thing I know, I'm in a room. My husband sitting next to me. It was odd, the first thing I saw was the clock and it was late in the afternoon. Really late. My mouth was so dry I felt like I was going to choke on sand and OH MY when I tried to move... MISTAKE

I thought it odd it was so late in the day, but my husband told me that the surgery had taken longer than expected and he would let the Dr tell me. My Dad and Aunt came later and wouldn't tell me anything either . Then I just got so caught up in trying to make sure I had my 2 oz of Ice chip every hour on the hour I forgot about the rest. I was in and out for the most of that afternoon. I think Dr Mitchell came by, but I don't remember. I remember wanting that ICE!!! It felt like never enough. The foot pumps they had on my feet were tickling me all the time and it was just enough to keep me 1/2 awake.

The next morning I did see Dr Mitchell's PA - Brett (cool guy!) and he told me that surgery was rough. That they almost had to do an Open RNY. My surgery (s/b 2 hours) took a little over 4. Dr Mitchell was very persistant and was able to finally manage to keep it to Lap RNY. BUT! (there is always a but) I would proably hurt more than most because of all the moving around they had to do. AND HOW - he wasn't kidding. It wasn't long after that, the nurse came in and said WALK TIME! omgomg omgomgomgomg ouchiesouchies. I thought someone was killing me slowing. But alas I got up and walked and quickly came back. The rest of the day was a blur - again with the In and Out and focusing on getting my 2 oz of Ice Chips ever hour. Day 3 - Ok.. I think I can stay coherent! I find out today from Dr. Mitchell "The Rest Of the Story" that my family had held back on. Aparently there was a delay in getting my surgery started. They found discoloration on my liver and did a biopsy and had to wait to find out it if was malignant or benign. It had come back benign, so the went ahead with surgery, but the lab was trying to determine what it was. Turns out, I had an adanoma on my liver from prolonged use of hormones. Day 3 and Day 4 went quick and I felt great actually when I left. Sunday - Sept 2nd.

I had FITS with my G-tube. The stupid thing would NOT STAY PUT. And when it went in, it went WAY WAY in. At least 2 to 3 inches. It became a constant battle to keep it out. An uncomfortable battle. Finally on Sept 6th - the morning, when I got out of bed I felt a sharp pain and then everything was ok. The rest of the day I had the hardest time getting my fluids down my G-tube. I had to use the surringe to push it down. I was taking Glycerna, pain meds, and crushed up medication all washed down with warm water. By that evening I was burning up. We took my temp and I had 102. We called Dr. Mitchell and drove down to the ER. We got there about 10pm. At 3am Dr Mitchell came into the ER - the CT scan showed that what he thought to be the G-tube having been disloged from the old stomach. Which meant all the Glycerna, water, meds had been going directly into body tissue and I had an infection. They admitted me and by 7am they were removing the G-tube.. OUCH OUCH OUCH! Then they packed it MORE OUCH OUCH OUCH.

I proceeded to spend the next 6 days in the hospital. I got out that following Wednesday with a "Pic-Line" (long term IV) having been inserted into my right arm. I was going to have to take liquid nutrients through the IV 12 hours a day to replace the G-tube. It wasn't so bad. I was happy to be HOME!!!!! My Mother-In-Law took fantastic care of me and helped me with everything. Two weeks and a half weeks later (9-28-07) I got the Pic-Line out and I thought I'd be free! I was so bored and ready to go back to work.

Then I found out they weren't ready for me to go back to work as much as I was. They wanted me off the liquids to see how I could do on my own. So two more weeks off work.

IT was nice to not tote around a backpack and try to always cover the IV, so it was rather comforting, those two weeks. I got into a regiment with eating and drinking as if I was at work to try and get on a schedule of something that could be effective with my schedule at work. Then on 10/10 I was released to go back to work on 10/15. WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

On Aug 3rd I weighed 467.5.
On Aug 30th - surgery day I weighed 445.5
On Sept 2nd - I weighed 431
On Oct 10th - I weighed 425

The IV Fluids slowed down the weigh loss tremendously, but I'm glad I had them.

My Story
So, "My Story" can be so many different things. My story of how I got to this place. My story of deciding to have surgery. I know I like to talk/ type to much. But hey. if you like reading...

I've always been overweight. My Aunt says that when I was two and had gone to live with her (my Mom died when I was 2), I was small. But apparently it was around 3 I started gaining weight. My Dad and I later moved in with my Grandma. His job had him traveling and he needed someone to watch me. We had Blue Bell Ice Cream (the best in the world) some evenings. I believe there could always be cookies or something to be found. Grandma never told me No when it came to food. The flip side was I never ate the stuff I should have and grew up with a "Texture" issue. Some texture of foods just completely make me gag.

Add the poor eating behavior developed early to a completely depressed child turn teenager with no self control. Hiding food in my room, eating whole pies and hiding it. Just making POOR judgement calls in every aspect of my life. I seriously don't think I had the right state of mentality to make a good judgement call if I had tried. Some I brought on my self, some stemmed from abuse (step-mother entered picture around 4). Living in a house with constant fighting - hard core yelling and throwing matches. All of these things furthered my mental issues along with food issues.

By the time I turned 16 and started driving, my Father put a restriction on me. Loose 2 lbs a week or no driving.

SO, I did. I lost the weight. Mostly by starving myself the last 2 days before weigh in. But that only worked for so long. I managed to go to Jazzercise classes with my stepMom and things looked up on the weight battle. But then things in life took a turn for the worse. My sister got kicked out, she started living a life she would have been doomed in. I moved out and moved in with her, because with her gone, everything was being taken out on me. WOW.. a whole new side to me appeared. Lies/ Lies/ Lies. I couldn't tell my reality from my lies anymore. All the weight came back PLUS more.

All that led to more bad decisions, one after another. Then it happened. I think I completely lost all sense of self. I had met someone over the internet - he convinced me to move to his state. I did, and drove up to his appt to find his girlfriend answering the door wrapped in a bedsheet.

I had told so many lies to my family of why I was moving. I couldn't go back. Not to mention I didn't want to go back. I was running away from guilt. My Grandmother (the 1 and only person who really loved me and whom I loved - but treated poorly and took advantage of and lied to) died. I couldn't be where she wasn't going to be anymore. But that - in and of itself, I think made me truly snap.

I tried to make things work - but in the end, I ended up homeless. I lost my car. All my furniture (of which some was heirloom from my Mother before she died), everything except the clothes I had in a bag and a couple of CDs. I slept in Pick-A-Part yards, in cars at night. This went on for a while.

I can't remember how it happened or how I met her, but a Fantastic woman named Marian saved my life. I wish I could find her to this day. She had nothing either. But she took me in, let me sleep on her couch. Shared her food. It was there that I met the man that would change my life. Not my husband (who was HUGE in that area as well), but his friend.
I ended up moving in with him to help him with his son. He was, still is, military and it was hard as a single parent. The deal was, he would let me drive his car to and from school if I would be home in time to help take care of his son. This plus room and board.My friend Randy and his neighbor were some of the truest friends someone could have. They had no issues holding a mirror to my face and making me see the "real" me. AND THEY TOLERATED ME!

I got my life together - that was in 1996 and I'm still reparing the pieces, today in 2007. It's been a long hard journey of facing a lot of things that I have done. THings I'm not proud of - shame and humiliation make the cup runneth over.
But even during that time period I just kept gaining weight. Then in 2000 I quit smoking and OMG tasted food again. It went downhill from there.

I had a lot of things to face - lots of FOOD demons. Every single night at 10 o'clock on the nose you could hear the "clank clank clank" of my Grandma's spoon scraping the bowl she just had ice cream in. It was a ritual for her.

I found later that when I was upset, depressed, afraid, worried, I turned to Ice Cream. It took a long time to realize that what I was really turning to was her. I was looking for her, needing her.

Other issues drove me into to food. In fact - I am still trying to fight this battle. Unless you have really been homeless, you can't know the complete and utter vulnerability and fear that comes with it. Where is the next meal coming from? Where am I going to sleep tonight that's safe? So whenever finances get tight, unconciously, I found I was hording food or eating way to much as if it might be the last. I did the same thing when I felt like I was stretched to thin and couldn't control things around me. For about 6 years, finances were so tight we were below poor (myself and my boyfriend - now husband). But you bet I always found money for groceries.

All of these issues, led to be being at my highest weight - 467.5 in Aug of 07. In all those years, I tried everything under the sun from pills to the soup diet, to the heart patient soup diet, jenny craig, weight watchers, shakes, everything under the sun.

I was trapped in a huge cycle. I had thought about the surgery starting as early as '03. Been researching it all this time. But not only was I not ready then, I'm convinced I wouldn't have succeeded.

Finally, In Feb of this year, I realized how much of my life I didn't have anymore. There was no quality to it. I was just a blob on the map of life.

I couldn't take it anymore. I had worked so hard for so many years to put my life back together. I'm a completely different person than I was in 1996 and before. I don't do any of those things I use to that would harm myself, mentally & physically. I've repaired, to the best it can be, my family ties. I have my own family whom I love. I have a job that I strive for the best and it shows because I've been promoted 5 times in the 8 years I've been there. I like who I am now. I like who I've become.  I proud of what I've accomplished so far.

This weight that hangs on me... it's part of "the old me", the past. I feel like it is the last thing seperating me from truly being free. And I'm finally ready to do what needs to be done to make it happen. I wasted enough of my life. I can't get it back, but I can damn sure make a better one going forward.