Just mostly trying not to indulge in a freak-out at this point...I think I'm pretty well packed and ready to go to the hospital tomorrow.
Serious case of nerves; I hate needles and am not a huge fan of pain either, but I am willingly submitting myself to these things in a matter of hours. I'm either crazy or incredibly committed to this new start!
I hope to be online as soon as I feel up to it tomorrow; I'll keep you posted.
Wish me luck--and I'll take any and all prayers, good mojo, positive thoughts or whatever else you've got.
---Vixy
Sunday, June 30, 2013
Thursday, June 27, 2013
Getting Ready for a New Start
With just a very few days till my surgery, I'm trying to set myself up for success in the details. I need to finalize my grocery list and make sure I'm fully stocked on cream-of-whatnot soups, sugar-free puddings, almond milk and protein powder.
My bag needs packing--I'm NEVER this far behind on packing when there's a trip to be had--and I need to clean/launder as much as possible so that I'm not feeling swamped post-op.
I had my final meeting with the surgeon yesterday. He's a talented doctor and certainly knows his business, but he's not much with bedside manner. On my first meeting, he breezed through in under a minute; this time I got him to slow down a little and talk, for oh, about two minutes.
I asked what bougie size he normally uses for sleeve surgeries. He looked over his shoulder at me, turned around and said "Hmm, you've been reading too much." My response was, "No, actually, I'm a teacher, and I think it's important to educate myself as a patient." He laughed and told me all about bougie sizes and how at the blahblahblah conference of 2009, it was decided that smaller bougies give no discernible benefit to weight loss and actually seem to cause more complications yadda yadda. Long story short, I will be sleeved using a 40 French bougie. Ta-da! Good to know, if only for the sake of trivia.
Okay, I need to buckle down and get moving on all the stuff that needs moving on before Sunday evening.
If I don't blog till after my surgery, don't panic--I promise to be online and posting updates as soon as I feel remotely human again.
Peace and love to all of you who read my ramblings.
My bag needs packing--I'm NEVER this far behind on packing when there's a trip to be had--and I need to clean/launder as much as possible so that I'm not feeling swamped post-op.
I had my final meeting with the surgeon yesterday. He's a talented doctor and certainly knows his business, but he's not much with bedside manner. On my first meeting, he breezed through in under a minute; this time I got him to slow down a little and talk, for oh, about two minutes.
I asked what bougie size he normally uses for sleeve surgeries. He looked over his shoulder at me, turned around and said "Hmm, you've been reading too much." My response was, "No, actually, I'm a teacher, and I think it's important to educate myself as a patient." He laughed and told me all about bougie sizes and how at the blahblahblah conference of 2009, it was decided that smaller bougies give no discernible benefit to weight loss and actually seem to cause more complications yadda yadda. Long story short, I will be sleeved using a 40 French bougie. Ta-da! Good to know, if only for the sake of trivia.
Okay, I need to buckle down and get moving on all the stuff that needs moving on before Sunday evening.
If I don't blog till after my surgery, don't panic--I promise to be online and posting updates as soon as I feel remotely human again.
Peace and love to all of you who read my ramblings.
Monday, June 24, 2013
And Then There Were Seven.
Seven days.
168 hours.
1,440 minutes.
604,800 seconds.
That's how much time I have remaining until surgery. I can't believe that the process I started in April--just two short months ago--is almost ready to really begin. Up until now, it's been a flurry of appointments, consultations and workshops. I've spent as much time as I can on the Vertical Sleeve Talk forums, reading and asking lots of questions. I feel as well prepared as I can expect to be.
I'm still nervous about the actual operation and complication risks. I'm nervous about really embracing the lifestyle changes for which I'm signing my body up, for the rest of my life. Can I be successful after a lifetime of failing again and again at weight loss and control of my eating? I have to believe the answer to that is "YES".
It's going to be a new beginning, and as one of my beloved friends once told me in a time of personal crisis, "change is like rebirth, and all birth is painful"; but it's also miraculous. I think I'm ready for my miracle of hard work to begin, in just a week's time.
168 hours.
1,440 minutes.
604,800 seconds.
That's how much time I have remaining until surgery. I can't believe that the process I started in April--just two short months ago--is almost ready to really begin. Up until now, it's been a flurry of appointments, consultations and workshops. I've spent as much time as I can on the Vertical Sleeve Talk forums, reading and asking lots of questions. I feel as well prepared as I can expect to be.
I'm still nervous about the actual operation and complication risks. I'm nervous about really embracing the lifestyle changes for which I'm signing my body up, for the rest of my life. Can I be successful after a lifetime of failing again and again at weight loss and control of my eating? I have to believe the answer to that is "YES".
It's going to be a new beginning, and as one of my beloved friends once told me in a time of personal crisis, "change is like rebirth, and all birth is painful"; but it's also miraculous. I think I'm ready for my miracle of hard work to begin, in just a week's time.
Saturday, June 22, 2013
The Importance of Support
..and no, I don't mean using a good solid underwire brassiere! (Though that certainly has provided a reliable level of support for me in the past...)
Yesterday, I completed the next-to-last consultation on my surgery checklist, the "nurse education seminar." Personally, I think it needs a new name. The way they titled it makes it sound like we're going to a training for nurses, not with nurses; but that's probably my inner English teacher showing. Anywaaaay, the seminar itself was just fine. From my perspective, it was a restatment of most of the things I've already gone out and researched, or learned about on the VST forums, but all of the information was clear and helpful.
Most of the things I've had to do pre-op were things that needed to be completed solo. Lab work, EKG, pulmonary clearance, psych evaluations, support group meetings. My family couldn't really experience these with me, and that can make it a little tough on them. I've had a few months to process and think everything through, but for the people who love me, this is happening really quickly--so the seminar gives them a place to ask questions and get answers from a reliable health care professional. All good.
Yesterday's seminar was pretty small, just me and two other patients with their companions. My SO took it all in, wrote some notes and asked a few questions. No problem. What I did notice, though, was that one lady seemed very uncertain about being sleeved--even though her surgery may be sometime in the next month. I don't mean that she seemed nervous; heck, I'M nervous about this entire thing, most days. Having major surgery that happens to involve the permanent removal of most of a major organ should make us nervous, otherwise we're not taking it seriously.
This lady, though, wasn't just suffering jitters or butterflies. She was questioning whether she should go through with the surgery. She's lost a little weight pre-op--as many of us do--and she's now wondering if she could "just take the weight off the natural way" instead of pursuing surgery. She also seemed interested in the lapband, despite our nurse-educator's statements that the band really isn't done very much in that practice any more due to problems with it and that it often leads to scars and weight regain. She admitted to being uncertain, and attracted to the lapband because it's not necessarily permanent.
That's all well and good. If any candidate for surgery decides it's not for them, especially a surgery that is irreversible, I support that choice. After all, the surgeons aren't going anywhere; you can always opt to try it down the road if you re-change your mind. What bothered me, though, was the attitude of this nervous lady's husband.
He was rah-thuh like Thurston Howell the Third (y'know, from "Gilligan's Island"). At first, he came across as very concerned for his wife; wanting to know about healing times and complication rates, and post-op dietary needs. Later, though, he seemed to be the driving force behind her uncertainty. He said that if she's lost weight on her own, it makes him believe surgery isn't as necessary as self-discipline.
Imma let you re-read that last sentence.
...
...
Yeah.
He's not celebrating her progress in losing a little weight before surgery. He's basically blaming her lack of "self discipline" for her obesity. She's fat, and it's because she's weak. She lacks control. She's taking the easy way out.
Okay--he didn't say those things out loud, but he may as well have. When I pointed out that his wife might feel more confident about her choice if she had a support system that included sleeved post-op patients who could share their experiences with her, he asked if I knew anyone who'd been sleeved. Why, yes, actually--and she's been incredibly successful; managed to get from near 300 lbs. to a size 10 in two years. His response? "Was she disciplined about losing weight?"
What the eff kind of question is that? Was she disciplined? Well, yeah, she was--so are most successful WLS'ers. But the sleeve is a major help--thus the reason many post-op people call it their "tool". Kind of tough to sit down and eat an entire pizza or a bucket of chicken wings when your stomach can't hold more than half a cup! I shouldn't care so much about someone else's decision either yea or nay about having this surgery. I guess that man's smug WASPish attitude and condescending outlook toward his wife's prospects for success really bothered me.
After that epiphany, I realized that I'm lucky to have my family's support. I made sure to let them know that, after witnessing what the other side of the coin can be like.
I hope you have a good, strong support system, too!
Yesterday, I completed the next-to-last consultation on my surgery checklist, the "nurse education seminar." Personally, I think it needs a new name. The way they titled it makes it sound like we're going to a training for nurses, not with nurses; but that's probably my inner English teacher showing. Anywaaaay, the seminar itself was just fine. From my perspective, it was a restatment of most of the things I've already gone out and researched, or learned about on the VST forums, but all of the information was clear and helpful.
Most of the things I've had to do pre-op were things that needed to be completed solo. Lab work, EKG, pulmonary clearance, psych evaluations, support group meetings. My family couldn't really experience these with me, and that can make it a little tough on them. I've had a few months to process and think everything through, but for the people who love me, this is happening really quickly--so the seminar gives them a place to ask questions and get answers from a reliable health care professional. All good.
Yesterday's seminar was pretty small, just me and two other patients with their companions. My SO took it all in, wrote some notes and asked a few questions. No problem. What I did notice, though, was that one lady seemed very uncertain about being sleeved--even though her surgery may be sometime in the next month. I don't mean that she seemed nervous; heck, I'M nervous about this entire thing, most days. Having major surgery that happens to involve the permanent removal of most of a major organ should make us nervous, otherwise we're not taking it seriously.
This lady, though, wasn't just suffering jitters or butterflies. She was questioning whether she should go through with the surgery. She's lost a little weight pre-op--as many of us do--and she's now wondering if she could "just take the weight off the natural way" instead of pursuing surgery. She also seemed interested in the lapband, despite our nurse-educator's statements that the band really isn't done very much in that practice any more due to problems with it and that it often leads to scars and weight regain. She admitted to being uncertain, and attracted to the lapband because it's not necessarily permanent.
That's all well and good. If any candidate for surgery decides it's not for them, especially a surgery that is irreversible, I support that choice. After all, the surgeons aren't going anywhere; you can always opt to try it down the road if you re-change your mind. What bothered me, though, was the attitude of this nervous lady's husband.
He was rah-thuh like Thurston Howell the Third (y'know, from "Gilligan's Island"). At first, he came across as very concerned for his wife; wanting to know about healing times and complication rates, and post-op dietary needs. Later, though, he seemed to be the driving force behind her uncertainty. He said that if she's lost weight on her own, it makes him believe surgery isn't as necessary as self-discipline.
Imma let you re-read that last sentence.
...
...
Yeah.
He's not celebrating her progress in losing a little weight before surgery. He's basically blaming her lack of "self discipline" for her obesity. She's fat, and it's because she's weak. She lacks control. She's taking the easy way out.
Okay--he didn't say those things out loud, but he may as well have. When I pointed out that his wife might feel more confident about her choice if she had a support system that included sleeved post-op patients who could share their experiences with her, he asked if I knew anyone who'd been sleeved. Why, yes, actually--and she's been incredibly successful; managed to get from near 300 lbs. to a size 10 in two years. His response? "Was she disciplined about losing weight?"
What the eff kind of question is that? Was she disciplined? Well, yeah, she was--so are most successful WLS'ers. But the sleeve is a major help--thus the reason many post-op people call it their "tool". Kind of tough to sit down and eat an entire pizza or a bucket of chicken wings when your stomach can't hold more than half a cup! I shouldn't care so much about someone else's decision either yea or nay about having this surgery. I guess that man's smug WASPish attitude and condescending outlook toward his wife's prospects for success really bothered me.
After that epiphany, I realized that I'm lucky to have my family's support. I made sure to let them know that, after witnessing what the other side of the coin can be like.
I hope you have a good, strong support system, too!
Wednesday, June 19, 2013
What Do You Most Want out of WLS?
I don't think anyone really goes into weight-loss surgery--whether it's Roux-en-Y, the lapband, or the gastric sleeve--without really wanting something. I mean, who would willingly undergo anesthesia, the risks of abdominal surgery, have their innards re-routed, removed, or forcibly collared with a foreign object, unless the possible benefits FAR outweighed (pardon the pun) the possible risks or side effects? Nobody, that's who.
So what is it that you want most from this big "system reset"? Are you focused on health as your top priority? Getting rid of blood pressure meds, insulin, crackling knees and aching hips? Are you looking forward to wearing clothes that accentuate your slimmer self rather than camouflage the bumps and wobbles? Are you excited to be able to join in on physical activities; whether that means running a 10K or chasing your toddler around the park?
If I'm brutally honest with myself, I guess it's a little of all three, but although my middle-aged body is starting to protest at lugging around an extra Olsen-twin-and-a-half of weight, I haven't had any major health complications from my obesity. Okay, I'm not able to run up three flights of stairs any more without feeling like I'll need a fifteen-minute rest and an oxygen tank at the top, that's true. I'll probably be more active post-op, though I don't see myself becoming a marathoner. (It could happen, but I doubt it. If I suddenly crave long-distance running, I promise to let you know!) My kids are both in their teens, so we don't do a lot of Red Rover or tag in the back yard these days.
My main focus is to be happy in my own skin. Maybe that's a little vain, but there it is. I want to shop for pretty clothes that make me want to sashay instead of hide. I want to look the best that middle-aged me can. I want my kids to be proud of how their mom looks, instead of feeling defensive about having a "fat mom". I'm tired of hating the way I look, and REALLY tired of hating myself for not succeeding at weight loss in the past.
That's my big prize, the one I'm going to struggle towards every single day for the next couple of years. I want to be in the best shape I can be, in the smallest size I can reach.
What's your big goal?
So what is it that you want most from this big "system reset"? Are you focused on health as your top priority? Getting rid of blood pressure meds, insulin, crackling knees and aching hips? Are you looking forward to wearing clothes that accentuate your slimmer self rather than camouflage the bumps and wobbles? Are you excited to be able to join in on physical activities; whether that means running a 10K or chasing your toddler around the park?
If I'm brutally honest with myself, I guess it's a little of all three, but although my middle-aged body is starting to protest at lugging around an extra Olsen-twin-and-a-half of weight, I haven't had any major health complications from my obesity. Okay, I'm not able to run up three flights of stairs any more without feeling like I'll need a fifteen-minute rest and an oxygen tank at the top, that's true. I'll probably be more active post-op, though I don't see myself becoming a marathoner. (It could happen, but I doubt it. If I suddenly crave long-distance running, I promise to let you know!) My kids are both in their teens, so we don't do a lot of Red Rover or tag in the back yard these days.
My main focus is to be happy in my own skin. Maybe that's a little vain, but there it is. I want to shop for pretty clothes that make me want to sashay instead of hide. I want to look the best that middle-aged me can. I want my kids to be proud of how their mom looks, instead of feeling defensive about having a "fat mom". I'm tired of hating the way I look, and REALLY tired of hating myself for not succeeding at weight loss in the past.
That's my big prize, the one I'm going to struggle towards every single day for the next couple of years. I want to be in the best shape I can be, in the smallest size I can reach.
What's your big goal?
Tuesday, June 18, 2013
Is it Possible to Love a Kitchen Appliance?
Okay, that might be the oddest question you read today. Unless of course you frequent one of the many WLS forums, in which case you probably have read half a dozen weird questions today; if you have a four year-old, you have probably been exposed to at least 20 odd queries. If you frequent a hentai site or two, you've seen things I never EVER want you to tell me about. Ever.
Anyway...I think I may have a crush on my new blender. It's definitely puppy love; only time will tell if it's a forever relationship based on trust and mutual respect. If you're a weight-loss surgery patient (or candidate), I'm sure you've put at least a little thought into the blender you'll be using to make smoothies, soups or the like. I have a stick blender--and I love that little guy. It can whip up gravy and sauces, scramble up omelets so fluffy they want to levitate above the frying pan. But to use it as my tool of choice for pre/post-op protein shakes and lump-free soups would have been a messy undertaking at best.
I looked into the NutriBullet, which seemed fantastic for individual servings. It appeared to be compact, powerful enough to handle frozen fruit and ice cubes, and performed well in the YouTube reviews I watched. Then I took a look at the Vitamix (a.k.a. the Auction-A-Kidney-And-Refinance-Your-Mortgage 5000). Holy wowzers, that thing looks like the blender version of a Blackhawk crossed with a Lamborghini. I love having shiny new toys--who doesn't--but at 400 to 500 dollars, I just couldn't justify that purchase. If I were a professional restauranteur, maybe it would be a great investment, but to whiz together some Syntrax and almond milk with some ice? Overkill.
Then I stumbled across the Ninja blender series. I actually saw it on an infomercial and resisted the siren song of "just four easy payments of $44.99" despite how badly I wanted to give in and call that 800 number. Then, lo and behold, I saw the same basic system at Tarjay. The price was $20 higher, but I'd be saving shipping and handling, right? Hmm. Ponderponder.
The breakthrough happened when I checked into the same system at Bed, Bath & Beyond. When you sign up online with them for their email newsletter, you get a 20%-off one item coupon. Armed with that fantastic little coupon, I hotfooted it over to BB&B yesterday. It doesn't have all the toys that come with the package sold on the Ninja website--but I saved a good chunk of change in shipping costs, and the coupon brought the price down to below-Tarjay range. Yes, it cost more than the NutriBullet--but instead of a single-serve cup, I now have IMMENSE COSMIC POWER. No. No, I don't, actually. No immense cosmic power; more's the pity. But what I do have is a 9-cup blender, complete with an 8-cup mixing bowl/dough hook/3-cup bowl insert, two single-serve cups with travel lids, and a blender that blows the doors clear off of anything else I've ever owned that dared call itself a blender.
I made the most amazing whole-food smoothie last night to christen my new purchase. I tossed in--with reckless abandon and practically no measuring, mind you--kiwi, pineapple, cucumber, spinach, protein powder, white grape juice, ice cubes, hemp seeds, and vanilla Chobani yogurt. Vroooooom. I ended up with a full container of cool green goodness that made a delicious liquid breakfast. And it's only the beginning. So many possibilities, so many options to explore...
It's true, I admit it. Resistance is futile.
I'm in love with a Ninja.
Anyway...I think I may have a crush on my new blender. It's definitely puppy love; only time will tell if it's a forever relationship based on trust and mutual respect. If you're a weight-loss surgery patient (or candidate), I'm sure you've put at least a little thought into the blender you'll be using to make smoothies, soups or the like. I have a stick blender--and I love that little guy. It can whip up gravy and sauces, scramble up omelets so fluffy they want to levitate above the frying pan. But to use it as my tool of choice for pre/post-op protein shakes and lump-free soups would have been a messy undertaking at best.
I looked into the NutriBullet, which seemed fantastic for individual servings. It appeared to be compact, powerful enough to handle frozen fruit and ice cubes, and performed well in the YouTube reviews I watched. Then I took a look at the Vitamix (a.k.a. the Auction-A-Kidney-And-Refinance-Your-Mortgage 5000). Holy wowzers, that thing looks like the blender version of a Blackhawk crossed with a Lamborghini. I love having shiny new toys--who doesn't--but at 400 to 500 dollars, I just couldn't justify that purchase. If I were a professional restauranteur, maybe it would be a great investment, but to whiz together some Syntrax and almond milk with some ice? Overkill.
Then I stumbled across the Ninja blender series. I actually saw it on an infomercial and resisted the siren song of "just four easy payments of $44.99" despite how badly I wanted to give in and call that 800 number. Then, lo and behold, I saw the same basic system at Tarjay. The price was $20 higher, but I'd be saving shipping and handling, right? Hmm. Ponderponder.
The breakthrough happened when I checked into the same system at Bed, Bath & Beyond. When you sign up online with them for their email newsletter, you get a 20%-off one item coupon. Armed with that fantastic little coupon, I hotfooted it over to BB&B yesterday. It doesn't have all the toys that come with the package sold on the Ninja website--but I saved a good chunk of change in shipping costs, and the coupon brought the price down to below-Tarjay range. Yes, it cost more than the NutriBullet--but instead of a single-serve cup, I now have IMMENSE COSMIC POWER. No. No, I don't, actually. No immense cosmic power; more's the pity. But what I do have is a 9-cup blender, complete with an 8-cup mixing bowl/dough hook/3-cup bowl insert, two single-serve cups with travel lids, and a blender that blows the doors clear off of anything else I've ever owned that dared call itself a blender.
I made the most amazing whole-food smoothie last night to christen my new purchase. I tossed in--with reckless abandon and practically no measuring, mind you--kiwi, pineapple, cucumber, spinach, protein powder, white grape juice, ice cubes, hemp seeds, and vanilla Chobani yogurt. Vroooooom. I ended up with a full container of cool green goodness that made a delicious liquid breakfast. And it's only the beginning. So many possibilities, so many options to explore...
It's true, I admit it. Resistance is futile.
I'm in love with a Ninja.
Monday, June 17, 2013
It's Official!!
I had to make a phone call or three to get through to the very nice lady in charge of booking surgeries last week, but after memorizing the "press 1 for ______, press 2 for _______" menu, I finally got my surgery date nailed down!
July 1st, 2013 (exact time to be determined at some point in the future), I will climb up on a surgery table and surrender 80%+ of my stomach, in order to stop surrendering my health, happiness and involvement in life! I'm excited, I'm thrilled, I'm over the moon! IT'S REALLY HAPPENING!
I'm also TERRIFIED. Because, well...IT'S REALLY HAPPENING. I've only had major surgery twice before, and each time, I went home with a baby--which was quite a door prize, really. This time I'm coming home without a good chunk of a major organ; one which has been both my nemesis and the focus of my joy for much of my life. I'm worried about complications; I'm worried about all those hundred bajillion little details over which I have absolutely no control. Will I get out of the hospital after only two days, or will something--who knows what that "something" could be--go wrong, and keep me there for more time than I planned on? Dehydration, a leak, chronic vomiting; it could be any or all of these.
I'm a single mom, and my ex and his family have not been kept in the loop for this surgery. The date is strategically placed to allow me a few days to recover before having to send the kiddos to him for the following weekend. Keeping the surgery to myself was my choice, and one that I made after a good deal of careful thought. What it means, though, is that if I have to stay for four days, six days, a week (or more), I don't really want to have the "why didn't you tell us you were hospitalized" conversation, much less have a "what do you mean, you had weight loss surgery" conversation. Fingers crossed that it won't come to that. I'm very protective of this decision to change my life by excising most of my stomach; I won't apologize for keeping it quiet. I just hope it all works out the way it needs to.
I'm also a bit scared that I won't be up to the work this surgery demands. I mean, I know that I will be committing to a lifetime of healthier eating and daily exercise, I really do get that. It's just that since I've never been strong enough, physically or mentally, to stick to those goals, I'm worried that I'll fail again. This is my last chance, and boy, do I know it. I have to make it work; I just have to. I refuse to let myself down by allowing this opportunity to FINALLY become healthy and fit fall from my hands.
Any other July surgery folks out there? Want to hold my hand and keep me from freaking out? I'll hold yours, too! Thanks.
July 1st, 2013 (exact time to be determined at some point in the future), I will climb up on a surgery table and surrender 80%+ of my stomach, in order to stop surrendering my health, happiness and involvement in life! I'm excited, I'm thrilled, I'm over the moon! IT'S REALLY HAPPENING!
I'm also TERRIFIED. Because, well...IT'S REALLY HAPPENING. I've only had major surgery twice before, and each time, I went home with a baby--which was quite a door prize, really. This time I'm coming home without a good chunk of a major organ; one which has been both my nemesis and the focus of my joy for much of my life. I'm worried about complications; I'm worried about all those hundred bajillion little details over which I have absolutely no control. Will I get out of the hospital after only two days, or will something--who knows what that "something" could be--go wrong, and keep me there for more time than I planned on? Dehydration, a leak, chronic vomiting; it could be any or all of these.
I'm a single mom, and my ex and his family have not been kept in the loop for this surgery. The date is strategically placed to allow me a few days to recover before having to send the kiddos to him for the following weekend. Keeping the surgery to myself was my choice, and one that I made after a good deal of careful thought. What it means, though, is that if I have to stay for four days, six days, a week (or more), I don't really want to have the "why didn't you tell us you were hospitalized" conversation, much less have a "what do you mean, you had weight loss surgery" conversation. Fingers crossed that it won't come to that. I'm very protective of this decision to change my life by excising most of my stomach; I won't apologize for keeping it quiet. I just hope it all works out the way it needs to.
I'm also a bit scared that I won't be up to the work this surgery demands. I mean, I know that I will be committing to a lifetime of healthier eating and daily exercise, I really do get that. It's just that since I've never been strong enough, physically or mentally, to stick to those goals, I'm worried that I'll fail again. This is my last chance, and boy, do I know it. I have to make it work; I just have to. I refuse to let myself down by allowing this opportunity to FINALLY become healthy and fit fall from my hands.
Any other July surgery folks out there? Want to hold my hand and keep me from freaking out? I'll hold yours, too! Thanks.
Sunday, June 9, 2013
OMGYOUGUYS. YOUGUYSYOUGUYSOMG.
Approval letter:
ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED!!
*happy dances all around the laundry baskets in the living room*
Next step--getting my finalized surgery date from the surgeon's office. Wheeeeeee!!
ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED!!
*happy dances all around the laundry baskets in the living room*
Next step--getting my finalized surgery date from the surgeon's office. Wheeeeeee!!
Friday, June 7, 2013
Hurry Up and Wait...
Isn't that the mantra of WLS folks? Wait for the seminars, wait for the pre-op appointments, wait to lose any pre-op weight your doctor requires, wait, wait, wait. That should go up there with "walk, walk, walk" and "sip, sip, sip" as phrases we get used to during this journey.
I've been incredibly lucky thus far. My surgeon's office is sympathetic to teachers who want WLS during their school breaks, whether it's Christmas, or April break, or summer vacation. Since I've never been through any major surgery before, I really don't have a good frame of reference apart from what I hear from those who have been through this process; and what I'm hearing is that apparently I'm flying right along! It seems that my surgeon's team has really sent me to the FastPass line, and instead of a six-month progression from start to finish, I may be looking at THREE. Just three. Holy wowzers.
That makes me feel pretty blessed; as does the fact that my insurance covers almost every expense. Here's my financial stats so far: I received a bill for a $25 copay that they won't let slide, I had to pay $500 for my three psych/lifestyle workshops, and my insurance policy requires me to pay the balance of my $300 yearly deductible (which comes out to just over $285). Altogether, I'll have a jump start on a healthy new life for less than most people's monthly mortgage/rent payments. Not too shabby!
At lunchtime, I called my surgeon's office to see where we are in the paperwork progression. My case has been submitted to the insurance company for approval--I should have an answer in my mailbox early next week. Then the surgery team will call me to work out a surgery date, and I'll be getting that sleeve, baybee. Sometimes I can't believe I'm really doing this; it's surreal. I'm like David After Dentist. "Is this real life?" Other times, I want surgery day to be here already! What a wonderfully exciting, nervewracking carnival ride!
How's your process coming along? Are you over on The Loser's Bench yet, with lots of extra poundage gone forever? Are you just starting out, wondering if weight loss surgery could be right for you? Are you like me, getting ready to actually take that leap? I'd love to hear your thoughts.
I've been incredibly lucky thus far. My surgeon's office is sympathetic to teachers who want WLS during their school breaks, whether it's Christmas, or April break, or summer vacation. Since I've never been through any major surgery before, I really don't have a good frame of reference apart from what I hear from those who have been through this process; and what I'm hearing is that apparently I'm flying right along! It seems that my surgeon's team has really sent me to the FastPass line, and instead of a six-month progression from start to finish, I may be looking at THREE. Just three. Holy wowzers.
That makes me feel pretty blessed; as does the fact that my insurance covers almost every expense. Here's my financial stats so far: I received a bill for a $25 copay that they won't let slide, I had to pay $500 for my three psych/lifestyle workshops, and my insurance policy requires me to pay the balance of my $300 yearly deductible (which comes out to just over $285). Altogether, I'll have a jump start on a healthy new life for less than most people's monthly mortgage/rent payments. Not too shabby!
At lunchtime, I called my surgeon's office to see where we are in the paperwork progression. My case has been submitted to the insurance company for approval--I should have an answer in my mailbox early next week. Then the surgery team will call me to work out a surgery date, and I'll be getting that sleeve, baybee. Sometimes I can't believe I'm really doing this; it's surreal. I'm like David After Dentist. "Is this real life?" Other times, I want surgery day to be here already! What a wonderfully exciting, nervewracking carnival ride!
How's your process coming along? Are you over on The Loser's Bench yet, with lots of extra poundage gone forever? Are you just starting out, wondering if weight loss surgery could be right for you? Are you like me, getting ready to actually take that leap? I'd love to hear your thoughts.
Thursday, June 6, 2013
I Love Us!
A couple of days ago, I had my first behavioral/lifestyle changes workshop. It turned out to be a great gathering of surgery candidates who share not only a commitment to their healthy futures, but a wonderful sense of humor and the ability to relate well to one another. I left with ribs aching from laughter, and of course, a lot of important and helpful information. I am really looking forward to the next two sessions.
The more people I meet who are having this surgery--or ANY weight loss surgery--the more I am convinced that we are a really special group. (And not necessarily in the "you should wear a helmet before you hurt yourself" way; though I definitely have been known to qualify for that!)
Many of us have faced huge struggles in our lives. Self-esteem has tanked because of our weight; or maybe the weight arrived because of our self-esteem issues, it's sometimes a vicious cycle. Maybe there were periods in our lives when we struggled with emotional warfare between adults or bullying from kids during our youth. We dealt with frustrations and disappointments every time we tried yet another diet, another expensive piece of equipment, another set of DVDs to sweat to with Richard Simmons (that alone should qualify some of us for sainthood--putting up with his chirpy antics can be pretty jawclenching when you're craving carbs)--and the weight would just return over and over again, making us feel like failures. Health challenges like chronic joint pain, back pain, high blood pressure, diabetes, sleep apnea...It can be a very tangled path to WLS, that's for sure.
And yet, despite whatever rocky paths we've been down, and in the face of humongous physical, emotional, financial or relationship land mines that we've tried to dodge, defuse or survive, here we are. Planning to surrender 80% or more of our stomachs so that we can finally gain control over this one facet of our lives which impacts so many other areas.
We're awesome, and we need to never forget that. Wear your scars proudly; they're proof that you're not defeatable!
The more people I meet who are having this surgery--or ANY weight loss surgery--the more I am convinced that we are a really special group. (And not necessarily in the "you should wear a helmet before you hurt yourself" way; though I definitely have been known to qualify for that!)
Many of us have faced huge struggles in our lives. Self-esteem has tanked because of our weight; or maybe the weight arrived because of our self-esteem issues, it's sometimes a vicious cycle. Maybe there were periods in our lives when we struggled with emotional warfare between adults or bullying from kids during our youth. We dealt with frustrations and disappointments every time we tried yet another diet, another expensive piece of equipment, another set of DVDs to sweat to with Richard Simmons (that alone should qualify some of us for sainthood--putting up with his chirpy antics can be pretty jawclenching when you're craving carbs)--and the weight would just return over and over again, making us feel like failures. Health challenges like chronic joint pain, back pain, high blood pressure, diabetes, sleep apnea...It can be a very tangled path to WLS, that's for sure.
And yet, despite whatever rocky paths we've been down, and in the face of humongous physical, emotional, financial or relationship land mines that we've tried to dodge, defuse or survive, here we are. Planning to surrender 80% or more of our stomachs so that we can finally gain control over this one facet of our lives which impacts so many other areas.
We're awesome, and we need to never forget that. Wear your scars proudly; they're proof that you're not defeatable!
Monday, June 3, 2013
One More Hurdle has been Hurdled!
As of today, I have finished all of the pre-op nutritional visits, pre-op tests/lab work, pre-op one-on-one counseling sessions that my surgeon requires! All that I have left are three behavior/lifestyle workshops--one each Tuesday evening for the next three weeks--a surgeon's final follow-up, and a FINAL final surgeon visit with family members so that they know the drill for procedure day, and have everything ready at home for my hospital discharge post-op.
I can't believe how much I've fit into two months. It's been crayzee hectic insane, but it's getting done! I even called the insurance company to make sure I won't get walloped with a huge unexpected bill for anything afterwards, and they reassured me that the most I'll be charged is just over $200, the balance of my annual deductible. Woohoo!
So far, from small dietary changes like incorporating protein shakes at least 1-2 times a day and focusing on reducing carbs and eliminating my 350-calorie coffee every day, I've lost 11 pounds. This is small taters compared to the 90-ish I'm hoping to still lose; but you know what, I'll take every ounce as a small battle won in the Great War to come!
Anyway, progress is being made on several fronts, and that is all good, all the time! How is your WLS journey? Are you just starting out, or have you already nearly won your war?
I can't believe how much I've fit into two months. It's been crayzee hectic insane, but it's getting done! I even called the insurance company to make sure I won't get walloped with a huge unexpected bill for anything afterwards, and they reassured me that the most I'll be charged is just over $200, the balance of my annual deductible. Woohoo!
So far, from small dietary changes like incorporating protein shakes at least 1-2 times a day and focusing on reducing carbs and eliminating my 350-calorie coffee every day, I've lost 11 pounds. This is small taters compared to the 90-ish I'm hoping to still lose; but you know what, I'll take every ounce as a small battle won in the Great War to come!
Anyway, progress is being made on several fronts, and that is all good, all the time! How is your WLS journey? Are you just starting out, or have you already nearly won your war?
Sunday, June 2, 2013
Why So Serious?
Urgh. I can never read that phrase without "hearing" it in the Joker's voice (shudder).
Anywaaaay, I notice that a lot of the time on the forums I frequent for info on VSG, people sometimes take things a wee bit too seriously. Don't get me wrong, I know this is a major life change, not to mention a major surgery, and it deserves respect and serious consideration. I agree with all of that. But every now and then I just want to reply to a thread with "LIGHTEN UP!"
Maybe it's just me.
I love to joke around and look at life from a quirky perspective. Laughter is something I adore, and to be honest, I don't indulge in it often enough, do you? As a teacher, I have to be serious about educating. I can't laugh when one of my students farts or makes a dorky face or a lame joke. I have to be serious in an hour-long meeting every day and a 90-minute meeting 2x a month. Gah. It's no wonder I come home wound up as tight as Granddad's pocket watch.
Laughter is a stress release. It sends endorphins flowing through our brains, which leads us to feel less depressed. It helps us not to sweat the small stuff. It opens our lungs for deeper breaths, which raises our blood oxygen levels, which is good for every cell of our bodies. Go watch the YouTube video of quadruplets laughing at their dad's silly antics, or the one from Sweden, where a baby in a highchair can't stop laughing at his father's wacky noises.
If you can watch either of these without smiling and laughing along, seek help, your sense of humor, eet eez borked.
My favorite idea about laughter is the laughing clubs in India. Have you seen these? People gather every day, in the mornings before work, meeting in public parks. They gather around a club leader who incites everyone to laugh on the count of three. It starts off very forced: "Ho. Ho. Ha. Ha. Ha," and becomes a mass gigglefest--probably because it's so ridiculous that you just can't help but laugh! I think my workday would go along much more smoothly if I were able to have a good solid belly laugh beforehand, don't you?
I think we could all benefit from learning to laugh more and get back in touch with the joy of having a good giggle! Beyond the stress release, there's a good deal of support for the idea that laughing actually benefits our health. You can read more about the ways laughter heals the body right here.
Then go out and spread the giggles, chuckles and belly laughs!
Anywaaaay, I notice that a lot of the time on the forums I frequent for info on VSG, people sometimes take things a wee bit too seriously. Don't get me wrong, I know this is a major life change, not to mention a major surgery, and it deserves respect and serious consideration. I agree with all of that. But every now and then I just want to reply to a thread with "LIGHTEN UP!"
Maybe it's just me.
I love to joke around and look at life from a quirky perspective. Laughter is something I adore, and to be honest, I don't indulge in it often enough, do you? As a teacher, I have to be serious about educating. I can't laugh when one of my students farts or makes a dorky face or a lame joke. I have to be serious in an hour-long meeting every day and a 90-minute meeting 2x a month. Gah. It's no wonder I come home wound up as tight as Granddad's pocket watch.
Laughter is a stress release. It sends endorphins flowing through our brains, which leads us to feel less depressed. It helps us not to sweat the small stuff. It opens our lungs for deeper breaths, which raises our blood oxygen levels, which is good for every cell of our bodies. Go watch the YouTube video of quadruplets laughing at their dad's silly antics, or the one from Sweden, where a baby in a highchair can't stop laughing at his father's wacky noises.
If you can watch either of these without smiling and laughing along, seek help, your sense of humor, eet eez borked.
My favorite idea about laughter is the laughing clubs in India. Have you seen these? People gather every day, in the mornings before work, meeting in public parks. They gather around a club leader who incites everyone to laugh on the count of three. It starts off very forced: "Ho. Ho. Ha. Ha. Ha," and becomes a mass gigglefest--probably because it's so ridiculous that you just can't help but laugh! I think my workday would go along much more smoothly if I were able to have a good solid belly laugh beforehand, don't you?
I think we could all benefit from learning to laugh more and get back in touch with the joy of having a good giggle! Beyond the stress release, there's a good deal of support for the idea that laughing actually benefits our health. You can read more about the ways laughter heals the body right here.
Then go out and spread the giggles, chuckles and belly laughs!
To Tell, or not to Tell, Part Deux.
When I first made my decision to have weight-loss surgery, I was bound and determined that I would keep the choice to myself. Having struggled with my weight almost my entire adult life, I saw no reason to open myself up to criticism or debate on the subject. It's my fat; I'm the one suffering because of it; it's my decision to make, and no one else's.
Since then (gosh, a whole two months ago), I've opened up to my mom and my sister, both of whom have been very supportive. They may have their doubts, but they've kept them to themselves. I'm sure if I asked "are you worried about my WLS" or "do you wish I would just go on a diet", they'd open up about it, buuuuuut why would I do that? ;)
I'm pretty sure that I know more than two people who've chosen weight-loss surgery, but they've opted not to share that knowledge, even when others ask them what their secret is for losing so much weight. They dodge with "well, I'm eating better these days," which would be 100% true after WLS, no doubt!
I don't know yet what I will say when my co-workers ask me. There are those who I know would be sincerely happy for me. Others might be curious and possibly considering surgery for themselves--and perhaps my sharing would be helpful to them. Then there are those who don't really care; they're just eager for gossip fodder.
Will you/have you let anyone in on your VSG/bypass/lapband procedure news? I'm still mulling it over, and I'll just do what feels right when it happens.
Since then (gosh, a whole two months ago), I've opened up to my mom and my sister, both of whom have been very supportive. They may have their doubts, but they've kept them to themselves. I'm sure if I asked "are you worried about my WLS" or "do you wish I would just go on a diet", they'd open up about it, buuuuuut why would I do that? ;)
I'm pretty sure that I know more than two people who've chosen weight-loss surgery, but they've opted not to share that knowledge, even when others ask them what their secret is for losing so much weight. They dodge with "well, I'm eating better these days," which would be 100% true after WLS, no doubt!
I don't know yet what I will say when my co-workers ask me. There are those who I know would be sincerely happy for me. Others might be curious and possibly considering surgery for themselves--and perhaps my sharing would be helpful to them. Then there are those who don't really care; they're just eager for gossip fodder.
Will you/have you let anyone in on your VSG/bypass/lapband procedure news? I'm still mulling it over, and I'll just do what feels right when it happens.
Saturday, June 1, 2013
Have You Tried...
...Panera Bread's "hidden menu" options? I heard about this just the other day, and went to Panera this afternoon to give it a try. Their hidden menu is available nationwide, at every Panera Bread location, and all you have to do is say "I'd like to order from the hidden menu" when you place your order.
The options they offer in the hidden menu seem to be very friendly to sleevers, and probably would be great for any bariatric surgery patient who is back on a normal-food diet. High protein/low carb is the common trend across each item.
Today, I tried the Power Chicken Hummus Bowl. In a bowl large enough to be called a "vat" came a beautiful meal! Baby spinach, sliced chicken breast, diced tomato, slices of cucumber, red onion, and a zingy hummus made with jalapeno and cilantro (I've never seen green hummus before, but it was delicious), finished with half a lemon that you can squeeze over the bowl, and two little packets of extra-virgin olive oil. I didn't use the EVOO but I didn't really need it; the meal was absolutely perfect from beginning to end.
Since I'm still pre-op, I was able to eat almost all of the dish and only needed a little help from my daughter to polish it off. I would guess that after sleeving, I would have PLENTY to take home and eat the following day. I highly recommend checking out the hidden menu at Panera; they also have two breakfast options, and three other lunch/dinner selections. I'll definitely be taking advantage of this restaurant-dining option, pre- and post-sleeve!
Here's a link where you can check out the hidden menu for yourself. Let me know if you try it out; and what you think!
The options they offer in the hidden menu seem to be very friendly to sleevers, and probably would be great for any bariatric surgery patient who is back on a normal-food diet. High protein/low carb is the common trend across each item.
Today, I tried the Power Chicken Hummus Bowl. In a bowl large enough to be called a "vat" came a beautiful meal! Baby spinach, sliced chicken breast, diced tomato, slices of cucumber, red onion, and a zingy hummus made with jalapeno and cilantro (I've never seen green hummus before, but it was delicious), finished with half a lemon that you can squeeze over the bowl, and two little packets of extra-virgin olive oil. I didn't use the EVOO but I didn't really need it; the meal was absolutely perfect from beginning to end.
Since I'm still pre-op, I was able to eat almost all of the dish and only needed a little help from my daughter to polish it off. I would guess that after sleeving, I would have PLENTY to take home and eat the following day. I highly recommend checking out the hidden menu at Panera; they also have two breakfast options, and three other lunch/dinner selections. I'll definitely be taking advantage of this restaurant-dining option, pre- and post-sleeve!
Here's a link where you can check out the hidden menu for yourself. Let me know if you try it out; and what you think!
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