Tuesday, August 25, 2015

Finding a New Normal

Sorry for not getting an update sooner -- I have been working primarily off my mobile phone, which I find challenging for longer projects such as this.  I have finally gotten my Surface Pro 3 to work (an aside -- it is way too much technology for me, so I struggle with it regularly), so here I am.

To answer the most pressing question everyone seems to be asking, yes I am feeling better, although today has not been terrific.  Once I got past the clear liquid phase, and was able to have yogurt, it helped.  I saw my doctor on day 6, at which point he gave me permission to advance to cheese and tofu, so I have spent most of the past week living on that.  Whipped cottage cheese has 15 grams of protein per 1/4 cup, and tofu has 2 grams of protein per ounce, so it has been fairly easy to get my 50 grams of protein a day in.  As for liquids, I am relying on crystal light lemonade, low sodium V8 juice and water, and most days get close to the 64 ounces I need.

Interestingly, my sense of smell has become incredibly heightened, which has turned out to not be a good thing.  As many of you know, I have always been sensitive to smells; I can't wear perfume or use certain soaps and shampoos because they give me migraines,  while other scents send me running to the bathroom to vomit.  I find it even worse now, as things that never bothered me before send my tummy into an uproar.  I am never sure when I will find myself overwhelmed by something no one else can smell.

Foods I loved in the past may have the same impact on me.  Already I am finding things to be super-sweet.  I used to love Gold Peak Diet Iced tea.  I love all my tea sweet (I sweeten it with Splenda).  Not any more.  I feel as if I can taste the chemicals in the artificial sweeteners.  I not only have no desire for coffee, but I am turned off by its smell.  A tuna salad sub from Mike's here in Belmar used to be may favorite.  I decided to get some of the tuna without the sub yesterday.  Three times I ate it, three times I experienced "dumping syndrome" (sort of a very rapid evacuation of the food in your system, accompanied by hot flashes and cramps), so that s no longer an option.

These challenges I was prepared for.  Everyone -- friends who have had this surgery, doctors and other healthcare providers, online resources -- all advise of the changes in how your body reacts to and processes food.  In fact, one of the reasons the surgeon recommends staying out of work for at least two weeks is to give you time to adjust and figure out how to manage food.

In fact, other than the food issues, which I will figure out, I am feeling really good.  I am down 27 pounds, and can easily walk around the block without getting tired or out of breath.  Each day I am trying to add more steps and more activity into my routine.  Tomorrow, I am going to try yoga.

So, do I regret the surgery?  I don't think so.  As I am still recovering at the Jersey Shore, I feel like I am still in a bit of a bubble, so the jury is kind of out until I get back to my real life.  Juggling food at work will be challenging, s I easily get distracted, forget to eat, and then gulp down whatever I can find.  Clearly, that is going to need to change.  Same with liquids; I will need to make a conscious effort to stay hydrated throughout the day, instead of drinking water non-stop from the time I get home until I go to bed.  One of the benefits of spreading my liquids out throughout the day is that I no longer find myself getting up to go to the bathroom five or six times a night, which means I am sleeping much better.

So overall, yes, I am better off now than before surgery.  I just need to find my new normal.

Sunday, August 16, 2015

I call bullshit (sorry, mom)!

I did a lot of research before I had my sleeve. I joined online forums. I talked to people. Everyone said it was great. They made it sounds as if they sprang from the operating table and started running marathons, with no pain, no problems eating. 

I call bullshit.

Two days before I was scheduled for surgery, I had stopped taking in any calories at all. Just the thought of food, in any form, made me want to vomit. I still hadn't received insurance approval, and began to think that I was doing all of this for naught.  I yelled at the woman in the surgeon's office.  I had a crying jag at my desk. I was ready to call it all off.  Not because I was afraid of the surgery, but because I was afraid I would never be able to think about eating without vomiting again. I searched all the forums; no one wrote about this, no one complained about it.  So I figured, it would pass.

Hah.

I finally got insurance approval Tuesday morning.  Later that afternoon I received the call that I needed to be at the hospital by 11:30.  So I packed up my clothes, my books, my pup, and drove down to Belmar, where I planned to spend my recuperation period.  After a fairly sleepless night, I got up, and we headed to the hospital, where I was quickly checked in, given a gown, slippers, and lovely hair net, assigned a bed, and sat. And sat.  And sat.  Apparently, I was #7 on the docket, so it was after 5 p.m. when I finally went into surgery.  When I woke up in recovery, I was in terrible pain.  My throat was on fire, I couldn't speak, and my chest was so full of gas all I wanted to do was cry. 

After what seemed like hours, I was finally brought to a room.  As I was getting settled, there were two small children right outside my door, screaming and running all over the place.  My head was pounding, my body ached, and I was done being nice. I asked the nurse to make them leave and close my door.  Unfortunately, they belonged to the woman who was admitted to the bed next to me.  I wanted to scream.  A dose of morphine took care of that.

The following morning, I was feeling pretty good (regular doses of IV pain medicine), and walked around the floor a bit .  I was told walking would help with gas, but I walked to keep my mind off how thirsty I was.  I was going on 34 hours since my last sip of water, as I waited for my "leak test." They give you a few ounces of a very thick, awful tasting liquid, and then take x-rays to make sure it goes down the way it should without leaking or any blockages.  I passed, and my reward was diet lemonade, sugar free orange ice, and discharge.

When we got back to Belmar, I was greeted by my nephew, Alex, three dogs -- Piper, Lola and Brooklyn. It was nice to be "home."  Trying to be the good patient, I made a protein shake with diet decaf iced tea and plant-based protein, and nearly threw up all over the place.  There was no way I was going to be able to drink any of that.  I decided to give up on protein for the night, sip some water, and try again the next day.

Every sip of water that I took resulted in a terrible pressure down my chest, as the water flowed to my stomach.  My throat was still sore, gas was building up, and all the pain meds had worn off.  An allergy to codeine left me without any pain meds at all. My first day at home ended with dry heaves. Not an auspicious beginning.

The next morning, I tried a few sips of Isopure clear liquid protein drink in coconut; it cam right back up.  The  pain in my belly was getting worse, and even water was making me nauseous.  I was really worried there was something wrong with me; no one else had talked about these issues.  Once I asked the questions directly, though, I found that this was pretty common, and decided to just power through it.  I decided I would not try to get any proteins in, and would just focus on liquids.  Crystal light lemonade became my go-to.  For variety, I mixed it with diet decaf iced tea.  On the third day, I started drinking V8 juice, and celebrated keeping everything down.

Today is day 4. I was able to have a chocolate-banana protein shake (though it took me almost 2 hours to finish it).  I seem to have mastered sipping, and can even get water down again.  I've been able to swallow my BP pill (crushing it and trying to take it with jello led to more nausea).  And I've been able to walk about 1/4 mile with relative ease.

Am I glad I did this?  I honestly don't know yet.  I am down 20 pounds from my heaviest, 10 since surgery four days ago.  I am feeling better than I did, but am constantly concerned that the next thing I put in my mouth will make me vomit. 

I am pissed, though, at all those people who  made this process seem like sunshine and roses, because it isn't.  I wish had known how hard it would be, because then I would have been able to be better prepared mentally. 

Friday, August 7, 2015

It doesn't suck -- at least not the way I thought it would.

As I sit here writing, I am eating a low-sugar coconut ice pop, hoping it will settle my stomach, as nothing else has worked.

I am on day three of my pre-op liquid diet.  Before I started, I was worried that I would be hungry all the time, that my stomach would be constantly rumbling, and I would be constantly distracted thinking about food.  I was very, very wrong.

I am not hungry, although I do crave certain foods.  For instance, Friday nights were typically spent on the deck with my pup, enjoying a good book and a nice glass of chardonnay.  Dinner was either some nice, crusty bread and a soft cheese, or pepperoni pizza.  As I move onto the next stage of my journey toward the sleeve and beyond, I will need to create some new rituals that are not based on food.

That said, my tummy is constantly grumbling.  It is not happy with the shakes I am supposed to be subsisting on now.  I have never been much a milk drinker; in fact, I rarely have milk in the house.  Now, I am expected to drink three milk-based drinks a day.  The result has been a near-constant state of nauseousness (is that a word?).  I am using lactose-free milk and lactaid, to no avail.

Today, I ditched the milk-based protein shakes for an apple-melon clear protein drink.  It didn't suck, but I cannot imagine once this is all over that it will become a staple in my fridge.  Unsweetened Iced Tea helped a bit, but when it came to eat again (120 calories would not sustain me for the day), I just couldn't bear the thought of a shake.  So I made the conscious decision to cheat, a little.

I bought large container of egg-drop soup and ate the whole thing.  My caloric intake will still be under 500, and I am hoping the protein in the eggs will outweigh the "solidity" (again, probably not a word) of the egg itself.

The weekend will be a challenge, as we celebrate my niece's high school graduation and wish her well on her journey to college.  There will be food everywhere, and another ritual that will need changing -- one of my favorites.  After each family gathering, my sister and I sit at the bar in her kitchen -- her on a high stool, me on the other side on a dining room chair, share a bottle of wine, and talk.  The guests are gone, the kids in their rooms, and the dogs are fighting over the dog bed.  I love this time.

But I remember that the reason I am doing this, having this surgery, is to have more time like this with her -- more years of these late-night talks about everything and nothing.

Tuesday, August 4, 2015

Where the rubber meets the road

Tomorrow I begin the all-liquid phase of surgery prep.  From tomorrow through August 11, I can have just three, milk-based protein shakes a day.  I can supplement this with tea or coffee, other no-calorie drinks, chicken or beef broth, sugar-free Jell-o and sugar-free ice pops.  And all the water I want.  For the first time in this process, I am scared.

Let's be honest here -- if I was any good at limiting what I eat, I would not be in the situation I am in, nor would I be undergoing such extreme measures to lose weight.  What if I try this and fail?  And if I can't maintain control for this week, what does that mean for me post-surgery?

Different people prepare for this step in different ways.  Some taper their shake-intake.  That had been my plan, and for the most part, I have been having a shake most days for breakfast.  I had hoped to increase that to two shakes a day this past week, but I decided to have a food funeral instead.  So for the last week, I've chosen foods that I love and have lived on, and enjoyed them one last time.

Interestingly, I found that I didn't love the foods as much as I thought.  I had a Big Mac and fries; I can live without them.  Sesame chicken, a staple, actually gave me an upset stomach.  The falafel sandwich I had been dreaming about didn't taste nearly as good as I remembered.  And I think I have had my fill of pizza for a long, long time.  My birthday burger and cosmo where great, but they were special occasion foods, so I am pretty okay with not having them again any time soon.

I am hoping that post-surgery, when I can go back to solid foods (about four weeks out), that I will be able to tolerate other foods I love, which are much healthier -- fish, eggs, vegetables.  I've never been a big red meat or pork eater, and I only eat chicken if someone else cooks it -- and even then there are no promises.  It does mean that I will need to plan better, make sure I have healthy food in the house, which can be cooked quickly.  I will need to remember to snack in the afternoon, so that I am not ravenous when I get home from work.

Focusing on the positives will help, starting with walking my dog.  Piper gets so excited whenever I pick up her leash -- she actually starts dancing!  And doing things, without wondering about whether or not I can get from the car to my final destination without huffing and puffing and sweating like a pig.  One of the things that I hope will keep me distracted during the difficult times is to create a list of things I want to do.  Some will be small -- walking to the library or going to the shore.  Others, more adventurous, including a possible 5K in some really fun location, or going to Nashville with my sister and my mom.  And then there are the experiences on my bucket list, which I had given up on -- traveling to South Africa and going on safari, going exploring in the Galapagos.

But for now, I am scared.