Who was I kidding?

So, the last time I posted I noted that I was going to take my laptop with me so I could post about my surgery shortly after it happened.  Looking back, that was probably a bit optimistic.  And that wasn't the only irony of that day.

Let me walk you through how it happened.  First, the hospital called me on Friday and said that my surgery was scheduled for 8:30 a.m.  I immediately informed that that no, it was not, since I had specifically informed my doctor and his crew that I had a court hearing that morning and would not be available that early.  Long story short, we got it moved to Noon.  But then they called me back and said that I had to be their by 10:00 a.m.   That was a little bothersome as I had made that very clear and it bugged me that no one has listened. 

So, I went to my hearing and got in and out very quickly, drove home to pick up my wife and my bag of stuff and we headed off.  I kept expecting to panic at some point, but I guess at that point I was just too far invested (literally) to back out.  traffic was good and we got to hospital by about 10:05 and started the check in progress.  Funnily, the woman who checked was in was married to a guy who had a gastric bypass at 15-years old (she claimed he was the youngest ever) and we discussed his experience for a while.  Now, I realized that his procedure was done way back in the 80's but note to the hospital, it's probably best not to have the woman checking you in telling you hospital horror stories! 

After that, it seemed to go very quickly.  They came and got me, placed me in a small room, had me dress in a skimply little hospital gown, shaved part of my belly (no small task) for an EKG and stuck in my IV line.  That was the part that probably bugged my wife the most as she's had several IVs in her life and none was pleasant.  Mine was only slightly uncomfortable  The doctor came back by and spoke to us briefly, long enough to tell us 1) that my procedure had been delayed for about an hour and half and 2) that they had decided NOT to do the single incisiion procedure.  You know, that procedure that required me to go on the liquid diet for TWO WHOLE WEEKS rather than just one?  Yeah, turns out that whole extra week wasn't really necessary.  That also bothered my wife a lot more than it bothered me (by that piont I couldn't muster enough energy to care).  However, that does mean that I forwent cake on my birthday and some nice dinning experiences with my wife's family.  Then again, the point of all of this is to lessen the love of food in my life. 

After a while, the anesthesiologist  came by and  gave me some medicine in my IV which he said was just a sedative that would calm me down.  I have to admit, I didn't feel much but shortly thereafter they came and got me and rolled me to the OR.  I still wasn't feeling anything except, maybe, a tiny buzz in my head.  I as able to scoot myself over to the OR table and I remember lying down and looking up at the ceiling, after that I got nuthin'.  We're talking total black out, so if what they gave me was just a sedative, wow, I think they over did it.

Now, I'd like to paint a nice picture here about gently waking up and easing my way into a pain-free, narcotic controlled consciousness, but I can't tell you that it happened that way.  My first memory is of a monstrous pain in my stomach, followed by a rolling nausea that I don't recall ever having experienced (and I'm still not sure I did experience it since the whole thing has a very dream-like feel to it).  I know that I was trying to vomit and it hurt like the dickens and remember that even in my drug induced stupor I wondered what retching like that would do to my new stomach.

From that point on, it's all a vague haze until about 10 or 11 p.m. that night.  I remember my wife being at my bedside and stroking my head.  I remember her, I think, holding a small bucket under my chin as my stomach continued to rebel.  However, by that time I believe that had given me a pain killer, the kind that I could control with a little button.   Believe me, I held that button in my hand like it was my child that whole night.

I know that was in and out of consciousness for most of the rest of that day. I remember having conversations with my wife and speaking rationally, then just a few moments later my mind would wander off into a dream but I know I was awake.   I finally came around enough by about 9:00 p.m. to send my wife home.  I then slept for most of the night, or at least what approximated a night's sleep as it seemed like they woke me up every few minutes to take a temperature, blood pressure, oxygen level, etc.  Oh, and one thing no one bothered to tell me was was about the heparin shot I had to get every 8-hours....in my stomach!  Don't flinch too much, however, the needle was very small and the shot really wasn't that painful.

The next day was Tuesday, it started okay.  They took me off the IV narcotic and put me on an oral drug, which I drank down without any problems.  I felt pretty good morining ("pretty good" being a relative term).  I was sipping water and it was staying down.  At breakfast and again at lunch I was able to keep down a tiny bit of tasteless, sugarless pudding (though nothing else even sounded good).  My wife came back a little after noon and shortly thereafter things took a decided step downhill.  I took a sip of water and again thought my stomach was going to explode.  I started retching, but there was nothing in my stomach to come up, except a little bit of blood left over from the surgery and little mucus.  And it didn't stop most of the afternoon.  They gave me two types of anti-nausea medicine, one injected in my rear.  They didn't really help and everytime I tried to drink water or anything I'd just start throwing up again.

I was also experiencing the transient gas pains that they talked about.  They start in your check and shoot up through the shoulder and neck.  I'd walk the corridor a little, but I probably should have walked more as I think it would have helped.  

Anyway, it was fairly quickly decided that I wouldn't be going home that day and by that night they put me back on the IV and the self medicator.  That night was actually pretty good because I could control the pain better.  It wasn't a fabulous night's sleep, but it wasn't bad either and more restful that the previous night.  The next day the doctor came by and basically said that I could stay as long as needed and the hospital couldn't charge me anymore, so I stayed one more night, if for no other reason than to come home and make my wife wait on me.  At least the nurses got paid for it.

And that was about it.  I came home on Thursday morning and immediately took a two hour nap, which actually felt really good.  My wife found some low sugar, low cal Gatoraid that I tolerate pretty well and I was able to nurse that along for most of last night until I finished it.  This morning, I was able to eat a little bit of yogurt and I've been feeling pretty good today.

At this point, I get occasional stomach cramps, usually when I first drink something, that pass fairly quickly.  I also still get the transient gas pains but not as often and not as severe.

Honestly, I don't know how a person could prepare yourself for something like this.  Fact is, no matter what, it's gonna' hurt.  Period.  You might as well must accept that if you are considering this procedure.  Just get it in your head that the first week after surgery is going to be miserable.  Also, be advised that you'll be essentially useless for sometime after that also, as you are prohibited from lifting above 8 pounds of weight.   Still, I am much better today (Friday) than I was on Tuesday and expect by Monday I'll be feeling pretty good.  At this point, food isn't really an issue.  It's certainly not a temptation as I'm basically forcing myself to eat and drink at this point.  According to the scale, I'm down to 316 pounds, so that's what's supposed to be happening.    I'll post some more pictures (complete with incision marks) later on.  I'm actually curious as to the difference my self. 

So, there ya go.  Week 1 of the new life almost complete.

P.S.  This may be too much info, but while I was in the hospital, it was a big relief for me to pass gas.  That's yucky, to be sure, but it was painless relief and let me know that my system was still functioning despite this trauma I'd put it through.

I'd like to tell you how this effect my wife and family, but it's hard to say.  It's been hard for my wife but in ways I didn't anticipate (and I'm not sure she did).  She is worried about what my decision says to my girls and their views of themselves.  Of all my kids, I'd worry most about the second boy.  He's heavier and you can see him having a weight problem if he isn't careful.  He hasn't even hit puberty yet and he's probably 8 inches to a foot taller than all his classmates.  I think that once he hits puberty he'll grow out of it, so I don't worry too much about him.   I hope the only message my kids get is that I loved them enough to take this step so I could be around for them for a very long time.  

Beyond that, I don't know how to control the message it sends.   Hopefully, as I lose the weight and get more active, the benefits of what's I've done will become much more apparent.