Wednesday, February 18, 2015

More on after the surgery...

I woke from surgery feeling pretty tired.  In fact, had a hard time staying awake.  Everyone went home because all I wanted to do was sleep.  I remember the nurse asking me to stand during the night, which I did, and then went back to sleep.  The next day all I wanted was my catheter out.  They complied telling me that this means I have to get up.  No problem.  I want to be up.  I sat in the big recliner chair almost all day.  My friends stopped by to see me and we chatted.  It was great.  Adrenaline was flowing.  I felt good.  I walked 7 times that day and the next.  You could not keep me down.  Second day I wanted the morphine drip off.  I wasn't in pain.  I was uncomfortable, but not in pain.  My incisions never bled.  I was the poster child. I had to start drinking fluids by mouth.  Just a sip every 15.  No problem.  No issues.  No vomiting.  No nothing.  OK! I can do this.  I can go home now, and I did.

Day 3 and 4 sucked.  I was off my adrenaline high.  I was low.  I HATED the Boost shakes that were supposed to give me all my calories and sustenance.  I managed two a day of the four I was supposed to drink.  I could not do more.  My legs began to shake uncontrollably at times.  I was scared.  What have I done?

Day 5.  Still not passing of the gas and no bowel movement.  Oh no.  What is wrong.  Legs shake more and am waking up with my whole body shaking.  I am scared.  What did I do?  I changed what was a pretty good life for one of fear?  Ugg.  I insist that my husband take me to the hospital.  They check me out and up and down.  Nothing really wrong with me.  I am having a major panic attack.  Bariatric RN tells me I need to walk more and power through.  Ok, great.  I have no power.  It is gone.  Now am told I have thrush.  Liquid meds for thrush taste like plastic.  I can't do it.  I brush my tongue harder than I ever have in my life.  All the white from the shakes comes off.  OK, I don't have thrush.

Day 6.  I can't lay on my back anymore.  I can't sleep.  I can't eat and I can't even see a light at the end of this tunnel.  I have my husband give me an enema.  I have slight relief, but not much.  Later in bed, I decide to turn on my side.  I have not done this before, because I couldn't.  I hear what is a slight pop sound.  I fart!  Hallelujah.  I farted.  Then cam the first bowel movement.  OK.  I am ok.  I can do this.

Day 7.  I can't drink anymore shakes.  I decide to have food and make it as liquid as possible.  My husband makes me mashed potatoes very watered down.  OMG.  That was the best taste ever.  I try refried beans.  No problem.  Yogurt.  No problem.  Everything tastes so good.  It is in small portions, but right now, it is ok.

Week 2.  It went well.  I continue eating the moist foods and soups.  I can manage.  I can do this.  Weeks 3 and 4 are good.  No problems.  I can't wait to get back to work.  I am bored.  I have not lost weight in two weeks.  How the hell does that happen?

Week 5.  I am back at work.  They are excited to see me and say they can see the changes.  I can too.  I have to buy smaller clothes, but just a few.  Supposedly, I will drop weight like crazy.  Ok.  I am waiting.  Sadly, I run into my first food issue.  I am reading email at work and fall into the old habit of not thinking about what I am eating.  I swallow that chicken and in that moment, everything changes in regards to eating.  It hurts to eat now.

Week 6.  Last night we go out for Thai.  I order green beans stir fried with pork.  I am at the 6 week mark, I can eat fresh vegetables, right?  Wrong.  I take one small bite of bean and pork and I am done.  I am in pain.  I can't eat any more and frankly my insides are squeezing like crazy.  I don't throw up, but I want to.  We leave and on the drive home I cough up this frothy crap.  Yep, I have reached a new low.  Pain and froth.  What have I done?




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