ANGIE0502

Send Message

Block

Add Friend

My big day (and after)...          I thought I'd share surgery experience since it was a new beginning.   My surgery was Monday 4/12/10 in Park Rapids, MN.  My surgery wasn't scheduled till 1pm and I didn't have to be at the hospital till 11a.m.  I thought I was going to be chewing on the wood work by then from hunger, but I was nervous enough that I was ok.  My "last meal" the night before was a steak dinner at a little restaurant as you come into town called the West 40.  I really don't like that term "last meal" as it is very incorrect.  I kept my wits about me as I ate my protein first, then some salad and finally a few bites of potato.   The next morning went as a usual morning.  Got up, got dressed and put on my war paint.  The nurse didn't say I couldn't like when I had my knee surgery-so God forbid I'd be seen outside without make up.  We packed, checked out and left for the hospital.  Registration went smoothly.  I was taken to the pre-op room and given a gown, those attractive slipper socks.  As soon as the nurse walked out and closed the curtain, the water works started.  I just stood there and sobbed.  My poor husband (his name is EJ) didn't know what to do, but he held me.  I still get teary eyed thinking about that moment.  I wasn't scared about the surgery.  I wasn't scared about the lifestyle changes I would HAVE to make after surgery (but had already made).  What I was scared about was the longer recovery I'd have if my surgeon was going to remove my gall bladder because it would probably be an open procedure.  Granted, all this is based on what I'd heard from other well meaning people.  My nurse was great.  She gave us all the time we needed and tried to make me laugh.  She asked if I wanted something for my nerves.  Since I hadn't spoke with Dr. Wroblewski yet, I declined.     Then Dr. Wroblewski walks in and says "Well, this isn't the first time I've entered a room and someone started crying."  I had to chuckle.  He was also great.  We talked about my gall bladder.  He "removed" the possibility from the table so to speak.  He assured me he wasn't going to take it out unless it was absolutely necessary.  He explained that while removing the gall bladder was the way things were done, new research showed it wasn't always necessary.  So, his practice was to not remove it.  He said we could reschedule if I was really not sure.  I told him no.  If I left, I might not have come back.  After that, I calmed down immensely but was still a little weepy.    At 1:30pm I was walked back to surgery.  I still find that odd that I wasn't wheeled back.  I strolled down the hall making sure I wasn't flapping open in the back.  I did have a robe on but I was still conscious of a breezy feeling.  Maybe it was nervous energy.  I was led into the cold surgery suite.  I had forgotten to remove my glasses.  A nurse was very nice and said she'd keep them for me.  I forgot to throw away my tissue.  Another nurse was kind and threw it away for me.  I was covered up with warm blankets.  They were all chatting with me to make sure I was comfortable and to help my nerves.  The anesthesiologist looked down at me, patted my hand and asked how I was doing.  "Okay" I said weakly.  "Well, in a couple minutes I'll be giving you the good stuff and you'll be just fine," he said.  I laid there looking at the lights above me.  My last thought was that this would be the last moment I have to back out if I wanted to.   That's the last thing I remember.    I woke up a few hours later in my room.  I don't remember being in recovery at all.  It was dark in there as it was overcast.  I was in and out.  Really out because those crazy boots on my legs that inflate with air to prevent clots didn't even bother me.  I was allowed blue ice chips.  My pain was not too bad, I was just exhausted.  EJ was great.  I'd wake up a bit wanting a few ice chips.  He'd come over to help me as I was lying down.  Between my saying I wanted ice chips and him getting there, I'd fall back to sleep.  He have a spoon of chips ready for me.  He would touch my lip to make me wake up again.  I can't thank him enough.    At 4a.m. I was wheeled to radiology so they could check for leaks.  I drank that AWFUL liquid.  It took awhile, but I did it.  Plugging my nose didn't even help.  Shortly after that, it was up and walking.  Then napping.  Then more walking.  By the late morning, I was feeling pretty good.  I could get my own ice chips to my mouth-just not gracefully as I was still not truly sitting up.  It was pretty uneventful that day.  Walking and napping, walking and napping.  I ran a low grade fever and was made to walk.  My pain was not bad at all.  I would give myself a bump on the IV pump if I was going to move around.  Later, we find out that it wasn't working and I wasn't getting any extra pain med when I pushed that button.  That was ok.  I guess I didn't need it.  EJ went home to be with the kids and I had the night to myself.  I just puttered around my room and walked.   By Wednesday, I was feeling even better.  I was up.  I got to shower.  As I stood in the bathroom I looked at the drains sticking out of my belly.  I looked in the mirror and realized my neck and chest looked like a Smurf.  I had blue drops and dribbles all over.  That blue stuff doesn't wash off very easy.  It was a day of more walking.  I was taking broth, jello and milk.  At some point in time that night, I started running a fever again.  So, more walking to bring it down.  I wasn't really sore.  The most pain I felt was in my left shoulder.  It made it difficult to do the spirometer thingy (I know-such technical jargon).  My nurse speculated it was the drain on the left side.  He said other patients had said the same thing.  EJ brought the kids back with him so they could be with when I went home.  Elvin (13) gave me a hug.  Danny (then 2) didn't know what to think of mommy   Thursday was going home day.  Even though I had run a fever the night before, Dr. Wroblewski left it up to me if I wanted to go home or stay one more day.  I wanted to go home.  I already had all my stuff about my diet for when I went home.  I was ready.  Two nurses came in to remove the drains.  That was a not normal experience.  I didn't know what to expect, but it was not normal.  But on the upside, the pain in my shoulder went away immediately.  EJ came back with the kids to load me up.  It was an uneventful trip.  I was glad to be home.  We picked up my prescriptions for liquid pain med and a few days of metformin.  I took the pain med twice before bed.  It tasted so awful.    Each day after that was better than the next.  I've been blessed with no complications.  I've just had a few hiccups in learning what food I could eat and what would get stuck.  I finally ate chicken the other night with out a problem.  It was difficult eating slow.  I didn't realize how slow you had to eat in the beginning.  Sometimes I'd forget to chew well and suffered.  I've avoided foods with lots of sugar.  The most I'll knowingly have is about 10 grams.  I know I can go up to 16 grams without getting violently sick.  I've relearned moderation.  That was something easily forgotten before.  My knees don't hurt, I'm off all meds.  I feel great.  It was the right decision. 

Well, here I go...my first foray into the world of blogging.  Ok, maybe foray isn't the word to use as I'm not raiding and pillaging.    My name is Angie.  I live in Fargo, ND.  Yes, same place as in the movie even though it wasn't filmed here.  No, not everyone talks like they do in the movie.  Yah ya 'betcha.  We do have church dinners with the hot dish and there are those who actually enjoy lutefisk.  But we don't put people through wood chippers on a regular basis.   I've been overweight and/or obese for most of my life after puberty.  I have PCOS (poly cystic ovarian syndrome) which wreaks havoc with your hormones, including insulin, which in turn wreaks havoc with your weight.  I remember gaining 30 lbs in one summer despite being active with bike riding and swimming.  I also grew up on a farm with parents who grew up during the depression.  You didn't have a choice in the quantity of food put on your plate at a young age and you cleaned your plate no matter how old you were.  It was a recipe for disaster in my mind.  Don't get me wrong, I'm not blaming my parents in any way.  Although my mom did try to ration my sweets, which made me want them even more.  As I lived on my own, I didn't have many sweets in the house.  But, when I did I over indulged in them.  For example, I'd purchase ice cream probably 2-3 times a year.  That gallon bucket of ice cream probably lasted 2 weeks.  Then it would be several months before I brought home another.  So, you see, ice cream wasn't in my house constantly.    I also grew up in a small town.  So, you can guess the ridicule I received from classmates about my weight.  Out of a class of 47, I had few good friends.  The cliques were clearly divided.  Only the jocks, preps and occasionally the motor heads were allowed to cross those lines.  I did well in school so I can't really complain.  I can complain that I didn't date.  The few who tried to take a chance to get to know me were harassed so badly they just stopped.  That's ok.  I believe that actions in the past influence the future.  So, if I dated someone from my high school then I might not have married the love of my life.    I went to college and lost weight.  I didn't gain the freshman 15.  Instead I spent more time in the on campus club dancing and partying.  Left college, continued with the dancing in clubs (if you can call them clubs in Fargo) and partying.  I had a good time.  I met my husband in a bar.  We fell in love (ahhhh), got married and had children.  Well, we had 1 child and spent 9 years trying to have another.  After my first child,  I didn't drop all the pregnancy weight.  The PCOS flared up. I spent years trying to find a doctor who would listen to me about treating the PCOS and not just try to start fertility treatments.  I finally did in 2005 and had my second and last child in 2007.  After marriage and children, you cross into parenthood and are no longer cool.  Something about a child seat and diaper bags kind of puts off your single friends.    Gastric bypass was first brought up to me in about 2001 or 2002.  I was having stomach pains that was thought to be the result of gall stones.  I went to see a surgeon about the gall stones.  He decided my pain wasn't gall stones.  "But have you ever thought about gastric bypass" he said.  I hadn't.  He said I qualified, gave me a bunch of info and tried to set up surgery.  Whoa!  I told him no.  I didn't believe in it.  I'm glad I didn't at that time.  I wasn't ready.   It wasn't until last year I put more serious thought into it.  I did my research and started seeing my primary care physician.     That's me in a nut shell.  And here I am...   My surgery was 4/12/2010.  I had a laparoscopic RNY.  I've been blessed with no complications other than finding chicken and eggs do not go down so easily.  My surgeon called me boring-but in a good way.  I've lost just over 60lbs.  I'm rediscovering an old self and gaining a new self.  I've learned a some new things.  So far, it's been a wonderful journey.