Today I Learned...That I'm OLD

I learned a little bit about myself today.  First off, right now I should be at the k-rockathon, watching my favorite band in the universe tear it up.  Am I?  No, I'm sitting on my computer.  I did go, however...I just didn't make it there long.

First and foremost...I'm too old for that sh*t.  I realized that I'm too old pretty much seconds after we turned into the fairgrounds, and saw the hoards of little punks in the parking lot just being obnoxious.  I thought $10 for parking was outrageous.  What made me realize I might not belong there was the cardboard sign boasting "Jello shots-$1" tacked up by someone's car.  Yeah, I don't think so, pal.  Jello shots = good fun...if you know where they're coming from!  And I thought I was going to have to get out and beat this jerk who was punching the rear of cars as they went by...mine being one of them.  Pull up your pants and stop being an ass.  No one wants to see your red plaid boxers.

After about a 2 mile walk (or thereabouts) from East Bumfrick where we had to park, we entered the gates...only to be patted down first.  No, no weapons here, ma'am.  We tentatively made our way into the grounds, and into the throngs of people.  I mean, there were people everywhere.  Half dressed, drunk, goth, stoned, did I mention half dressed?
I felt like the oldest person there (although I saw many people in their 40s and 50s rockin' their little hearts out).

First place we went was this little stand selling gyros and pitas and the like.  All I wanted was a bottle of water.  "Bottle of water, you say?  Sorry, we only have soda and Powerade. Water is only available at the beer tents."  Are you friggin kidding me??  Like you can get within a 20 foot radius of the beer tents.  So we each got a Powerade, and headed toward the stages.  We got pretty darn close, and I was thinking maybe it wouldn't be too bad after all.  The band on stage finished their set, and another band took the other stage.  All of a sudden, Danielle and I found ourselves in wall-to-wall people.  I mean, the people in front of us were literally 6 inches away, same goes for behind us and beside us.  There were people crowd surfing and there was fighting, there were people throwing bottles of water and soda and shoes...frankly, I was a little freaked.  We made it through the next band's thankfully short set, and we hightailed it outta there.  I could tell she wasn't having a good time, and I was starting to feel light headed in the sun.  Let's not forget I had surgery 2 weeks ago...

So, we made our 2 mile trek back out to the car (thank goodness my car is yellow!) and made our way to Carousel Mall, where I purchased knock-off Dolce & Gabbana sunglasses and a smutty book.  We went to the food court, where I found mashed potatoes (that were disgusting).

After I dropped her off, I went to KFC and bought more (delicious!) mashed potatoes and a kids' meal for Gabby, then I headed over to Wendy's to get Goob his heart-attack-on-a-bun.  I'm happy to be home and to be with my people.

So, to sum up...I'm too old to enjoy the things I should have enjoyed in my early 20s but didn't, and I really really don't like people en masse.  Also, I'm not really the badass I thought I was.  And I will forget all of this the next time one of my bands comes to the Aud.

General Ramblings and Musings

I was looking over some of the papers from the doctor's office.  One thing I just saw was "it is normal not to feel hunger at this time, but it is important not to skip meals.  Eat 3 meals a day, even if it is only a bite or two."  Believe it or not, it's easier said than done.  Although it is hard for me to fathom, in the last 2 weeks I have only been hungry once or twice, and that was only because I was thirsty.  Today I had to force myself to have half a slice of toast.  So far that's all I've had.  I decided last night that I'm done with tuna for now...it just is not agreeing with me.  I went to bed feeling pretty sick to my stomach. 

Tomorrow is the big krockathon.  For those of you who don't know what that is, it is an all day, outside rock concert at the State Fair Grounds, put on by K-Rock radio.  15 bands, if I heard correctly.  I'm looking forward to it, but I'm also nervous.  I haven't done any "all day" anything since my surgery.  It's supposed to be hot and sunny, and packed with people.  I don't do all that well in crowds of people.  In general, I don't like people much.  But I'm willing to sacrifice to see two of my favorite bands.  But in preparation for the day, I find myself returning to the same questions...What if they don't let me bring my own water in?  Am I going to have to pay $4 for every bottle of water I want? (concert venue = ridiculous pricing)  What am I going to eat?  I know we won't get out of there until at least 11 pm, and that's being "cup half full".  I can't go an entire day without eating, yet everything I can eat needs to be refrigerated, and I doubt I'll find anything there I can eat.  So what, do I live on saltines all day?  If you have a suggestion, I'm all ears!

Discoveries

I'm starting to discover things about myself that I don't know if everyone post-surgery experiences.  One thing that grosses me out is my teeth always feel dirty, unless I have just brushed them.  Fuzzy, almost.  I guess chewing different foods helps to keep the plaque from building up during the day.  Makes sense, no?  At this point, I'm not "allowed" to chew gum (maybe they think I'll swallow it, who knows) so I'm constantly brushing my teeth.  The good news is my teeth will be healthier than ever!

Something else...I'm always thirsty.  I can't get enough to drink.  Trouble is, I'm very picky about what I drink.  I don't like most juices, and I certainly don't like them diluted.  Our water doesn't taste very good, so to tolerate it I have to add lemon wedges.  I've been brewing iced tea daily, well, on sunny days anyway.  Brushing my teeth constantly just makes me thirstier, and you know that nothing tastes good after brushing!  It's a vicious circle!

The weirdest thing we've noticed so far is my sense of smell.  I've always had a terrible sense of smell.  For my sniffer to work, the odor must be very strong.  Well, since the surgery, I have the nose of a blood hound.  Go figure.  I'm constantly wrinkling up my nose and telling Goob that something stinks.  It's driving him nuts.  He told me he likes it better when I can't smell...I think I do too.

Last night I discovered that I may not be ready for toast.  I made a slice and made it half way through before I decided I didn't like how it was making me feel.  It tasted like heaven, but I felt every bite building up in my little pouch.  And I have to chew chew chew everything up very good, and after a while of masticating, whatever is in your mouth starts to be just a little gross.

So far today nothing tastes good to me.  I had 3 bites of mashed potatoes, and two bites of yogurt.  That's it, and it's 1:15pm.  I'm trying to decide if I should try something else, or just quit for now.  I can't wait for my tea to finish brewing in the sun...

Speaking of eating and drinking, I haven't mentioned this yet...as of this week, I am not to drink any fluids 30 minutes before meals, and for 1 hour after meals.  Forever.  This is because the fluids will push the food through the little pouch faster, and not allow it to build up so I feel full.  The result is eating more than I should be.  Everyone who I have talked to that has had the surgery says this is one of the biggest adjustments, and one of the hardest.  I have to say I must agree!  You're conditioned from childhood to have a drink with meals.

So...I'm supposed to be drinking 64 oz of fluids a day.  You figure 3 meals a day, an hour and a half of not drinking each time (I'm not a mathematician, but I think that's 4 1/2 hours) plus however long is spent sleeping....let's just say it's hard to get that much fluid in.  But like I said before...hydrate, hydrate, hydrate!

New Week = New Food!

It's a new week.  Two weeks since the surgery, and that means I'm officially entering postop week 3.  Which means....new food!!  I've been looking forward to this day for a week.  New foods to try:

• Scrambled egg (no more than 1/2 an egg)
• Canned or packaged tuna/salmon
• 1/4 to 1/2 piece of toast (avoid doughy breads)
• 1-2 small crackers

Finally.  Food that is chewable.  This morning I made two cans of tuna--one for me, and one for my daughter, who is a tuna freak.  (By the way, has anyone else noticed that a can of tuna is no longer good for two sandwiches?)  I made Gabby her sandwich, then giddily made myself the other can, with the intention of eating it out of the bowl with a couple of saltines.  And this where reality sets in...6 small bites and one saltine later, and I'd had enough.  I was almost feeling a little sick.  So judging by the amount of tuna left in my bowl, I have enough for two more meals.  Amazing.

Oh, and did I mention I weighed myself?  I'm 22 lbs. lighter, and wore a shirt last night that was previously too tight.  Yay me!

Dumping Syndrome

If you're at all like me, you will never have heard of dumping syndrome.  I hadn't heard of it until just before my surgery.  It is related to gastric bypass, and it is described as this:

"Dumping syndrome occurs when the contents of the stomach empty too quickly into the small intestine. The partially digested food draws excess fluid into the small intestine causing nausea, cramping, diarrhea, sweating, faintness, and palpitations. Dumping usually occurs after the consumption of too much simple or refined sugar in people who have had surgery to modify or remove all or part of the stomach."

Sounds terrifying, doesn't it?  I have not experienced this dreaded phenomenon, but it's just a matter of time.  Everyone's body reacts differently to the foods they eat, so what might cause Sally to have dumping syndrome may not cause me to, and vice versa.  So far, I've had two friends describe their experiences of horror to me...one had a simple bite of ice cream; the other, just two bites of an apple crumb pie.  This "dumping" can last for hours and while in it's clutches, makes you wish you would just die and get it over with.

Every time I try something new, I'm on edge for about an hour afterwards, waiting to see if it's going to grab ahold of me.  The dumping can be immediate, or it can be an hour or more later.

I've enclosed this picture for your viewing pleasure.

Cranky

I just wanted to say I'm feeling cranky and out of sorts...and the fact that I'm going to go make dinner for the family doesn't help much.  Granted, I'm making something I hate and would never eat (tuna noodle casserole) but it's something Goob loves and Gabby will when she tries it.  As for me, I'll either have half a cup of light yogurt or a cup of strained vegetable soup.  God, I can't wait for some real food to enter the equation.

Pssst...Ok, I'm gonna come clean.  I'm not making tuna noodle casserole from scratch, they're getting Tuna Helper with Broccoli.  Still something I would never eat, and don't usually buy.  I'm not a "Helper" kind of girl--tuna, hamburger, or otherwise.

But at this point, if I could....I would!

Did I Mention...Shots?

When you go in the day of your surgery, one of the first things they do once your IV is hooked up is give you a heparin shot.  Heparin is an anticoagulant...in layman's terms, they want to prevent blood clots, so they give you a blood thinner.  The kicker is the administer the shots in your belly.  Freaky, right?  This continues every 8 hours while you're in the hospital.

Once you are discharged, one of your prescriptions is for...you guessed it, another blood thinner.  This one is called Lovenox, and is only required once a day.  I knew this ahead of time, and asked Goob (my husband) if he would be comfortable giving me the shots.  He said sure, he gave shots to cows growing up on the farm, what's the difference.  Uh, only that I'm not a cow, jackass...but I digress.

True to his word, he gave me the shots, which was good because there was no way I could have done it to myself.  It didn't hurt, but just the thought of a needle in my belly made my heart race and my body stiffen up.  We had to do these shots for 5 days.  He only hurt me once, and that was the night he was trying to "do it quick".  Why, I don't know.  But if you go through this, don't be surprised if you bruise in the area of the shots.  My belly was a roadmap of bruises, both from the shots and from the incisions.

Now, why am I telling you all of this, you might be asking....well, here's why:  if you are going to have the surgery and your doc tells you you need the shots, check with your insurance company beforehand to make sure there is no problem.  Come to find out my company needed a preauthorization, and we were told that since we didn't have one, the "request" would have to go before a review board, which would take 2 days or more.  I didn't have 2 days to wait.  So the next morning I had to call the doc's office, and they took care of it for me.  They called the insurance company and got the preauthorization, and it was all back to neat.  But to spare yourself the irritation, look into it ahead of time.

Week 2--Let's Hear if for Carbs!

Currently I am in week 2 of the after surgery diet.  It has been 10 days since my surgery.  This week I was allowed to add light yogurt, low fat cottage cheese, unsweetened applesauce, loose mashed potatoes, and loose oatmeal or cream of wheat into my diet.  In other words, carbs.  Mmmm....carbs.  I was so excited to dive into the mashed potatoes.  I make rockin' mashed potatoes.

However, my first batch turned out way soupier than I like.  Like a good girl, I ate them anyway.  My daughter loved them, and polished them off (since I can't eat much at once, I didn't make much).  The next day I made another batch.  Just as I was getting ready to add the milk, I realized...I was out of milk.  Crap, now what?  So I added some of that damn chicken broth instead.  They turned out ok, but with a distinct chickeny flavor that I was sick of.  So I was sitting on my couch, nibbling away, thinking "what can I add to these to make them better?"  Enter the "ah-ha" moment.  I added a sprinkle of parmesan cheese and popped it into the microwave to melt.  Better, but not great.  The next cup I had, I added the parm, but also a smidge of garlic powder and stirred in some cottage cheese.  "Cottage cheese?" you might say with disgust...well, if you pop it in the microwave, it melts to give you a little cheesiness.  Cheesyness?  I don't know how you'd spell that, but you know what I mean.  Turns out they were great.  Again I will add my disclaimer...if you try it and get sick, it's all on you, not me.

I'm getting sick of peeling and boiling potatoes though, not to mention the dishes it dirties every time.  So yesterday at Walmart I decided I'd go with instant.  My recommendation to you for instant potatoes:  Idahoan.  They come in an envelope, they're with all the rest of the instant potatoes, and they taste far more real.  There are several kinds: homestyle (plain), butter, garlic and herb, loaded, etc.  Just a little tip from me to you.  Enjoy!  I'm trying to.

Cheater, Cheater...Steak Eater?

Sometime during the first week (the days all blend together), I was desperate for some real food.  Enough of this clear liquid crap.  That happened to be the day my husband fixed steak for dinner...and I love me some steak.

He and the kids were sitting in the dining room, enjoying their dinner, and I was miserably trying to ignore them and the delicious scent from the living room.  I went into the kitchen for a refill on my drink, and there sat the steak, taunting me.  I thought, what's the harm in just tasting it?  I cut a piece.  I stabbed it with the fork.  I looked at it.  And I popped it in my mouth.  Who in their right mind sucks on steak??  The eyes of my husband and daughter just about popped out of their head.  "Mom," my daughter gasped, "what are you doing?!"  I told her not to worry, I was going to spit it out.  So I sucked on it, and then I chewed it.  I chewed it and chewed it.  Then I got a paper towel and spit it out.  Oh my God, it was amazing.  So I did it a few more times.  Now, those of you who are laughing out there, you go ahead and laugh.  Yeah, it sounds silly.  But it got me through the craving and let me chew for the first time in over a week.  Yay for chewing!!

Protein Shake, Shmotein Shake

For the first two weeks following surgery, Dr. Graber's patients are to drink a low-sugar soy or whey protein based supplement (shake) 3 times a day.  But wait, don't get excited.  They do not want you to have the decent ones, like Carnation Instant Breakfast, Ensure, Boost or the Slim Fast shakes.  No sir.  The one I chose from the approved list was the Atkins Advantage shakes available at Walmart, in vanilla and strawberry flavors.

The first sip literally almost made me vomit.  My kids however, found it quite tasty.  How anyone over the age of 6 can find these appetizing is beyond me.  The thick substance tasted like vanilla vitamins...and if you take vitamins you know what I'm talking about.  It was just terrible.  I had high hopes for the strawberry, but alas that let me down also.  I made it through two days of the shakes before I said enough is enough.  I haven't had anymore since, and I seem to be doing fine.  I'm just making sure I take the rest of my vitamins...vitamins I will have to take for the rest of my life.

Again, please do not use me as an example...if you go through the surgery, and your protein supplement doesn't work for you, call your doctor as directed.  Me, I'm a bit of a rebel who would rather work through things myself without bothering anyone...and eventually it's going to get me into trouble.  But for the time being...is there anyone out there who actually enjoys these shakes that wants them?  I have 6 left over!

Clear Liquids Suck! Redux

I've said it before and I'll say it again....the clear liquid diet is devised from the pits of hell.  There's only so much broth a person can stand.  For the first week after surgery, this is the diet you will follow.  Clear and sugar-free liquids.  So I tried to come up with a way to make it more interesting, more palatable.  I don't know if I was supposed to do this or not, but it didn't hurt me....if you try it, don't blame me for anything that might happen!

I couldn't stand the thought of yet another cup of chicken broth.  So I bought a can of diced tomatoes, and squeezed the juice from the can into the broth.  It was still a clear liquid, right?  Then, and this is the probably-naughty part...I added a pinch of oregano.  I threw it in the microwave for a minute, and my first taste was like an Italian soup.  I was so excited.

The next night my husband made ziti for him and the kids, using jarred sauce.  Now, if you know me, you know even having the jar in my house insults my Italian heritage, but I figured it was something he could easily do himself.  I had run out of my canned tomatoes, so I instead added a tiny bit of the sauce to my broth.  That was even better than the first night.  I just made sure I didn't get any chunks of anything in my cup.  If I closed my eyes, I could almost pretend I was having ziti with them....almost.

Hydrate...or Suffer the Consequences!

Did I mention how important it is to drink?  Staying hydrated is the #1 thing that is going to help you recover.  I learned this the hard way.

First, with your new pouch, it's important to take in a lot of fluids, but only at sips at a time.  This is difficult, when you're used to gulping.  If you drink too much too fast, it feels like someone punched you in the gut.  It hurts.  So don't do it.  They give you a medicine cup to drink out of at the hospital.  You know, the ones that come with your liquid medicines?  Those.  And you sip, sip, sip diluted juice or water from them.  Me being me, if I don't like what I'm drinking, I'm not going to drink.  In the hospital I had diluted grape juice, diluted cranberry juice, and diluted apple juice.  They all tasted the same to me, and they all tasted gross.  Same when I got home.  So I didn't drink much.

You know you're dehydrated when you're shaky, exhausted, and lightheaded.  Also when you call the doctor's office to see when you're going to feel better, and the nurse gives you hell for not drinking and for not calling earlier in the day so you could have gone to their office and been hooked up to an IV for a short.  Oops.  From that point on I started drinking iced tea with lemon, iced tea mixed with cranberry juice (thanks for that idea, Red Lobster!) and water.  If I was awake, I had a cup in my hand.  Once I got rehydrated, I started to feel much better.  I even went for a walk around the yard with my daughter...water in hand.

The Day Arrives, Part 2

The first thing I remember after surgery is trying to open my eyes, and having the realization that something was on my face.  I immediately felt claustrophobic.  Then I was suddenly aware that my back ached something fierce.  Turns out that thing on my face was the mask from a C-PAP machine, you know, those used for sleep apnea.  Great, but I don't have sleep apnea.  I just wanted it off.  Finally someone came over and took it off.

The day is mostly blurry, but I remember bits and pieces.  They didn't have a room for me, so they kept me in recovery until they did, which was sometime between 1 and 1:30 pm.  My poor husband waited alone for me that whole time.  The staff did keep him up to date on what was going on, but still.  That had to have been the longest day ever.  I got moved up to my room, and was immediately disappointed that I had a roommate (Neither she nor her husband even looked in my direction, much less said hello as they passed by my bed at any point during my stay.  Rude much?) 

My mom and my sister Crystal came--or maybe they were already there?  I don't know.  I remember seeing them, anyway.  I remember Mom stroking my head and Crystal fluffing my pillows.  I remember my husband and sister trying to get my laptop set up with the hospital's wi-fi.  I remember Mom and Crystal leaving for lunch or something, then returning with the trash tabloids from the supermarket, and having Crystal reading me the headlines.  My back was still killing me.  At some point everyone left, and I slept.  I slept until the nurse came in, either for me or my oh-so-pleasant roomie.  I slept until said roomie called for the nurse to help her get on the "commode" on her side of the curtain, at which point she passed gas and exploded all over the pot.  Yeah, nice.  And of course every single time I was awakened, I had to pee.  So I had to drag myself into the bathroom with my IV stand while trying to be quiet, because hey, I'm a courteous person and didn't want to disturb the roomie, who's name turned out to be Brenda (not everyone is as courteous as I; she and her visitors spoke as though they were alone in the room).  This went on all night.  My back continued to hurt. 

Bright and early at 6 am, my lovely new friend Brenda turned on her tv and had the nurse open the shades.  I wanted to kill that bitch.  Sorry, but I did.  Her husband showed up shortly thereafter.  All I wanted was a little sleep.

I had a few visitors.  My friend Kim, another friend's mom, and Crystal.  Kim stayed with me all day.  She is a Godsend.  She really made the day bearable.  Then Dr. Graber came in the afternoon, and told me I could go home.  Halleluja baby, I was outta there!  I called my mom, and an hour and half later I was on my way to home sweet home.  Kim stayed with me til Mom got there, and even carried my stuff out for me.  She's a sweetie!

On the way home I had a decision to make: go to my parents' house for the night, away from the kids, in the quiet, being taken care of...or go to my house.  I decided to go to my own house, as going to my parents' meant another 20 minutes in the car.  I didn't think I could stand it.  I called my husband and we planned that the kids could stay the night at his parents' house and spend the next day with them, with my husband picking them up on his way home from work.  This worked out extremely well....but my daughter was furious.  The day I was released was her birthday, and she was counting on her dad bringing her to see me in the hospital.  Now for her to not see me at all?  That was unacceptable.  We told her she could come home and see me, but she had to stay the night at Grandma's.  She told her father in no uncertain terms she would not leave once she got home, and if he dared leave her at Grandma's she would cry and never stop.  Well, he did leave and she did stop, and she survived.

The Day Arrives, Part 1

The alarm goes off at 3:50 am.  Surprisingly, I slept well.  I woke up the husband, and into the shower I went.  I got out to the wonderful smell of coffee...of which I could have none--nothing by mouth after midnight.  My stomach was growling.  My mother-in-law arrived shortly before 5 to stay with the kids.  After hugs and well wishes, we were off.  It was a quiet 45-minute ride to the hospital, with both of us lost in our own thoughts.

6:00 am is a surprisingly busy time at the hospital.  Busy, but hushed.  People move quietly through the hallways, speaking in hushed tones.  We checked in, and were directed to a waiting room.  Hurry up and wait....after about 15 minutes a nurse called my name and took us to the room where I'd change and get hooked up to the IV.  I was also given some drugs to calm my nerves (I didn't think I was nerved up, but they give them to everyone).  Xanax and what I was surprised to learn were 2 pills of medicinal marijuana.  We got a chuckle out of that.  Weed in the hospital...

The anesthesiologist came in and gave us a brief overview of what would happen.  By then my fun drugs had kicked in, so I was feeling pretty mellow.  Whatever you say, dude, I'm just along for the ride.

We were in that room for just about an hour, then they moved me to the surgical holding area.  This is where the husband and I had to part ways.  We said goodbye to each other and at that point I wished to God that I would see him again in a few hours.  He headed to the waiting room and I was taken into this world of surgery.  Everyone was wearing scrubs and hair nets, and I was instantly aware that this large group of people was here for me.  Luckily I had the doctor's wonderful nurse practitioner come over and talk to me, explain what was about to happen, and get me fitted into these booties that compress/decompress to help prevent blood clots in the legs.  She and another nurse were joking with me about the size of my giant feet.  Really, girls?  Really?  I'm freaked enough and you think my size 11s are humorous.  Well, ok, maybe they are...

At promptly 8:30 the word comes that Dr. Graber has arrived.  They wheeled me into the OR and transferred me to this metal table.  I was suddenly surrounded by people, touching me at every end of my body, draping me with this, wrapping me with that... the anesthesiologist started talking to me about nonsense stuff, just to keep my mind occupied.  The last thing I remember is hearing Dr. Graber say, "Don't put her to sleep yet."  Too late....

Clear Liquids Suck!

So because I would be in the hospital on my daughter's 6th birthday, we had her birthday parties the weekend before.  Dr. Graber's office requires a 3 day, clear liquid diet before surgery, and wouldn't you know I had to begin the diet the day of her party at my parents' house--a day by the pool followed by a barbeque and cake.  Needless to say, I was one miserable chick.  It was very hard watching others with their tomato pie, snacks, and all the delicious wonders of a summer barbeque...all while I sucked on my popsicles and sipped broth.  That was one of the hardest days I can remember in my life.


I also treated her to a mother/daughter day where we went to lunch (where I sat and kept her company while she ate her Happy Meal, as I was on the stupid clear diet) and to the movies ("Toy Story 3" is great).  I wanted to do something special, just with her, because let's face it--there's always the risk of death during any surgery.  I wanted her to have one last special memory with Mommy before I took that risk.  God forbid if something did happen to me, my son is too small to remember me, but her....her little world revolves around me, and that is the only hesitation I had with this surgery, the only thing that scared me.  How my death would affect my baby girl.

Anyway, the 3 day diet was the pits.  Clear broths/stocks, popsicles, juices, Jello...you know, what your mom gave you when you were recovering from the stomach flu.  Oh and hey, guess what you get for the first week post op?  Yep, you guessed it...the clear liquid diet.  Only this time, it's sugar free!  Can you say "suck city"?  I can!

And the Journey Begins...

When I finally made the decision I was going to go forward with the surgery, I talked to some of my friends that had gone through it, and I asked about their doctor.  I decided to go with Dr. Graber in Utica (http://www.drgrabermd.com/).   I called and got my initial consultation scheduled for May 18th, 2010.

First thing Dr. Graber's office insists upon is the attendance of an information seminar that his office puts on.  I arrived at the Holiday Inn at 8 am, and was surprised at how many other people were there for the same seminar.  The seminar was very informational, and before I knew it two hours had blown by.

Upon my arrival for the consultation later that day, I was a little nervous and didn't know what to expect.  I had heard that the doctor was a little strange, but I was looking forward to meeting him and hearing what he had to say.  Turns out I met with two women before I got to him.  The first woman took my vitals and went through my medical history.  The next woman also went through my medical history and talked to me about the surgery and the life changes following.  I felt it was a bit redundant, after having had to sit through the seminar that morning, but I figured it was probably good to have it all beat into my head so I knew what to expect.

Meeting Dr. Graber was a pleasant experience.  He was conversational in his own way, cracking jokes with his very dry sense of humor.  After going through my history (again!), he said, "Yes, we have to get this weigh off of you."  Yes sir, I agree.  And so I left his office feeling buoyed and hopeful, awaiting the date of my surgery.

A few days later I received an envelope in the mail from his office.  It contained all my future appointments that they had made for me, and the date of my surgery: July 14th.  My first reaction was dismay, as the 14th is the day before my daughter's birthday, and that meant I'd be hospitalized for her big day.  But I put that worry aside for the time being and focused on the letter.  They had made appointments for me to see my own physician, to clear me physically fit for surgery; an appointment with a psychiatrist, to make sure I don't have any issues with food that would threaten my success post op;  a dietician, to go over what my diet will be like for the rest of my life; and a pre-admittance appointment for any last minute bloodwork and paperwork.  I was grateful that they took care of all that for me.

Fast forward to the appointments.  The meeting with the dietician was basically a waste of time, in my opinion.  She didn't tell me anything that I didn't already know, as I had done my own research and talked to others that have gone through it.  That lasted about 20 minutes.  My next appointment was with the psychiatrist.  What a super guy he was.  I enjoyed talking with him, and after a short time he declared that I didn't need a psychiatrist, and that I didn't have any threatening issues.  Yay me! (I even have a letter stating this for all you non-believers, haha!)  His parting words to me were, "It doesn't matter if you are beautiful on the outside, it only matters if you are beautiful on the inside.  But with you, I don't know why you want to do this, you have both."  Aww....how sweet.  But wait--are you genuine or hitting on me?  OK, I know he wasn't hitting on me, but I found it amusing either way.

The appointment with my regular doc was uneventful.  She and I had already discussed this at length so basically she gave me a physical, and sent me for an EKG and a chest x-ray.  She also gave me a tetanus shot, which if you've never had one makes you feel like someone punched you hard in the arm for days after!

Lastly, I had my pre-admissions appointment a week before surgery.  There I had blood drawn by an evil phlebotomist (she had no idea what she was doing, and I have great veins).  I also met 3 other people in the waiting room that were also having the same surgery with the same doctor.  That was reassuring.  Then I met with a pre-op nurse and someone from the anesthesiologist's office.  When I left, I had a feeling of relief...and of trepidation.  I was on my way...

Welcome to my blog!

Welcome to my first ever blog!  I hope you decide to join my on my journey to "the skinny side".  My good friend Kim brought me flowers the day after my surgery, and the card read "Welcome to the skinny side!" (she also had the surgery, and as a seasoned vet is helping me through).  Hence the name of the blog. 

I have thought about having gastric bypass for years.  Every time I heard of someone else that had it done, I would get jealous.  When my weight ballooned to its highest, I decided enough is enough.  What better time than now?  I'm staying home with the kids, it's summer, and I have no other obligations that I would have to worry about.  So I called my surgeon in May for an initial consultation, and in July went in for the procedure.

This is the hardest thing I have ever done.  If anyone is stupid enough to say that a person that has had gastric bypass is "taking the easy way out", I will punch them square in the mouth.  It's a mental thing, and getting your brain to jive with your new stomach is so hard.  This is basically a die-hard foodie quitting cold turkey.  If you've tried to quit anything cold turkey, then you know how hard it is!

In my next post, I'm going to start off by taking you through to the beginning...for now, my family and I are off to Walmart. :)