Bad blogger! Bad, bad blogger. No biscuit.

I'm so sorry that I haven't posted recently, guys!  I went back to my hometown to visit my best friend in the world.  She didn't know I'd had surgery, and since I was staying a couple of days, it had to come out so that she'd understand why I couldn't enjoy that pitcher of mojitos or eat more than a few spoonfuls.
It may seem strange that I hadn't told her--after all, she is my best friend, close as a sister.  I guess it was a combination of not wanting to worry her and add to her stress, and worry on my own part about how she'd take the news.  She's always been slender and fit; I've always been The Fat Friend.  She's watched me ride the dieting roller coaster for decades, and I worried that she might think I was taking "the easy way out".
As it turns out, I had no reason to worry.  After talking at lunch for a few minutes about what the surgery entailed and how it would impact the rest of my life (hopefully in all-positive ways), she was 100% supportive.  Now I feel like my support system is complete; a huge relief for me!

So, let's see.  Surgery was July 1st, and today makes 17 days post-op.  I weighed in this morning, and if the scale is to be believed, I've officially lost 30 pounds from my heaviest weight in April!  About 11 pounds of that was pre-op discipline, but the rest is all due to my sleeve rewriting my eating rules forever.  I'm less than 10 pounds from Onederland, and boy, that feels good.  I should be heading back to school in September with a weight that starts with a "1" instead of a "2"--woohoo!  Shopping for back-to-school clothes might actually be more fun for me this year than it will be for my kids.  I'm looking forward to it, and wondering if my co-workers will notice any changes in me; and if they do, whether they'll say anything about it.  Should be interesting!

How are all of you doing?  I hope you're finding ways to keep cool in this heat wave!

BTW--anyone who wants to join a Facebook group with about 50 super-supportive and really funny, nice, all-around good sleevers, just hit me up with your full email address.  You can also send it to me at kiltchasinggirl at gmail dot com, and I'll send you a group invite!  

A Week Out from Surgery...

Wow.  It's a brand-new world for me, definitely! 
I've been home for four days now, and the healing process continues.  It's definitely a steep learning curve--mostly related to learning how my body works post-op--but I'm making progress every day, with only a couple of minor setbacks to adjust to.

The first couple of days were rough, of course.  The rumbling and gurgling in my sleeve was so intense, it HURT to sip liquids.  I decided that during the operation, a tiny, angry third-world dictator must have taken up residence.  He had a hair-trigger temper, a huge ego, and steel-cleated combat boots. Swallowing even tiny sips of ANYTHING triggered my tiny, angry dictator to throw unforgettable temper tantrums.  At one point, it hurt so much for liquids to land in my sleeve, I had to do Lamaze breathing with every sip--I could feel the liquid trickling down my esophagus (not painful), and then when it arrived in the tiny dictator's domain, he'd make with the stompy boots and tie my sleeve into horrific knots (EXTREMELY painful)!  I was worried about having a stricture or becoming dehydrated, but I fought for every sip, and it seems to have worked.

Each day, my sleeve's resident Kim Jong Il became a little less maniacal, and this morning I'm actually able to tolerate small-but-reasonably-sized sips, as opposed to ridiculously baby-sized sips that wouldn't hydrate a mosquito. The crushing, squeezing knots have gone away, and now if I sip too fast or too big, I get a squeeze that acts as a reminder without bringing tears to my eyes.

The other setback is that I seem to be lactose intolerant.  This is totally new for me.  Pre-op, I could eat anything--and often did, thus my need for weight-loss surgery, but I digress--but that's not the case now.  My nutritionist's plan allows me to have "full liquids" at the moment.  This means creamy soups with no bits in them, pudding, smooth yogurts (all sugar-free), things like that.  I prepped my kitchen about a week before surgery by filling it with sugar-free Snack Paks (premade pudding cups), cream-of-you-name-it soups, whey-based pricey protein powders for smoothies; I was totally ready.  When I arrived home, I began using my stash.  My angry dictator responded by chaining me to the bathroom for hours on end--I dreaded leaving the house; I was bloated, crampy, miserable.  This went on for the first three days of being home.  Coupled with a fever that at times nudged toward 100 degrees, you can easily see why I was having some "wth have I done" thoughts!

Yesterday I decided to try a non-dairy day.  No protein powders, no milk-based anything.  I ate unsweetened applesauce, drank water, nibbled ice chips, made myself an almond milk smoothie with nothing but peanut butter powder added...and I spent a very comfortable day.  No diarrhea, no cramping, no being shackled to the loo.  What a huge difference!!  It seems like the problem is definitely dairy.  I'm sad about that, but I hold out hope that it won't be permanent, and maybe I'll be able to reintroduce some things a little further down the line. 

I meet with my nutritionist in a couple of days, and hopefully she will be able to help me get my protein in without relying on milk-based products.  It's hard when I won't even be adding puréed foods for another week, much less anything that actually requires chewing!

My incisions are now unbandaged and healing. Some of the surgical glue seems to be lifting; I'm sure the doctor will check those for me later today, at my one week follow-up.  I have some bruising, though not very much.  At the hospital, the nurses missed two of the telemetry markers that are attached to the heart monitor--sticky circles with a snap in the center.  I found them when I first got home, but apparently the few extra hours of adhesive were all my skin needed to break out in two perfect circles of eczema.  Red, itchy, bubbly torture.  But hey, the itching distracts me from the incision soreness!   It's slowly healing, kind of like everything else I've inflicted on my poor unsuspecting body in hopes of giving it a happier and longer life. 

I have my first official post-op weigh-in today.  I'm hoping to see some happy numbers--and to be honest, any downward movement on the scale will make me smile!  Overall, things are going well.  I'm learning to roll with the punches and try to accomodate what my new plumbing needs.  I don't have any real regrets at all, and I feel like this is the beginning of good things for me!  How are YOU?

I Did It!

Today is Thursday, July 4th, and I can safely state that I'm celebrating my newfound independence from food.  I was sleeved Monday, and came home from the hospital yesterday.  Right now, I'm comfortably ensconced on the family sofa--laying flat in bed is just not an option yet.

I'd say my pain/discomfort level is right around a 2 or a 3; my back is sore, but I'm not sure if that's due to the sofa not being firm enough or due to a pocket of gas lurking in there somewhere.  The worst issue I've had so far has been the refusal of my new sleeve to just quietly accept what I send to it.
No matter what I sip, whether it's hot, cold, or tepid; whether it's sweet or savory, or just plain water; every teeny baby sip I take causes seismic rumbling in my sleeve.  It's so loud other people in the room can hear it--and it HURTS.  I'm hoping that it's just post-op swelling, and will go away on its own.  Getting my fluids in is a challenge right now, but I'm working on it!

Good news:  before surgery, I weighed in and the scale said I'd gone down another 2 pounds--bringing my total pre-op weight loss to EIGHTEEN POUNDS gone!  Woohoo!
Meh news: after surgery and 3 days in the hospital, I gained back 10 pounds in fluid.  Sigh. 
No biggie, it'll go down soon.

Back to lounging on the sofa, walking around as much as possible, and sip-sip-sipping! 



 

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? 

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.

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.

My Post-Op Promise.

***Cross Posted from the VST Forums***

My post-op promise (for when I get there):

Well, I could say I swear to forever and always give up sweets and carbs, but I know myself, and that's not realistic. One day, post-op, I will indulge in a nibble or two, and be able to step away from the sugars.
I could say I swear to work out for two hours a day, 7 days a week, but unless I've fallen through a rip in the time-space continuum into an alternate universe, I'm gonna have to go with "nope" on that as well.

But here's what I can promise. I solemnly swear not to be one of those post-WLS folks who feel so pleased with their own success and progress that they then look down on obese people who haven't made changes. I will never hate on any non-WLS person.

What makes me say this right now? (Apart from the fact that I'm just not that mean?) I've been reading around the internet, looking at WLS blogs that are scattered across various sites, reading Facebook profiles that were linked to the authors of those blogs, and stumbled across someone's public Facebook photo of an extremely obese woman who was out running her errands (shopping and whatnot). This woman most likely had NO idea she was being photographed, and the picture is certainly not flattering. The caption mentioned how the photographer felt "sick to their sleeve" after looking at the obese lady.

Wow.

Now, I don't know the photographer from Adam's left ox; I just happened to stumble across them while internet-wandering, and they had publicly posted photos--the pics weren't hidden in any way. I clicked away from that Facebook profile feeling sad and disgusted that someone who bragged about conquering their food challenges and accepted lots of public back-patting for it would then skewer another human being who hasn't been able/brave enough/informed enough to take the same steps.
So, I am publicly promising never, EVER, to be that catty and smug about whatever progress this tool brings my way. I will never, EVER judge someone else who isn't on the same path as my own. Weighing less won't turn me into a rude or obnoxious person, any more than being heavy makes me one.

You can all hold me to it.