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?