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I had my pre-op appointment yesterday. I can tell this whole process is well thought out and they do a lot of smart things to minimize risk and ensure success.

one thing I hate is that they only use Tylenol for pain. They do a block also, but Tylenol? I think it's gonna be a miserable two weeks or so.

Even though I asked and asked and was reassured and we went through all this prep, my surgeon was looking at my Upper GI again and told me it may be impossible to do this surgery safely. Previous to yesterday he had always said it was fine he could do it, no big deal. Yesterday, he said he may get inside and decide it's too risky. He also may have to do a bigger pouch depending on where he can cut. He may remove some of the stomach. He said if my pouch is large he would shorten my intestines more to try to give me more weight loss there. 

It was not a fun surprise obviously. I told him of course I want to live first and foremost so if he gets in there and the risk is unreasonable, i get it. I know my stomach's all jankity from my previous complications. I also told him that I think even if my pouch is larger than others it may still be really helpful for me in losing weight. 

After that conversation I'm finding it hard to get excited about surgery. I'm just concerned that instead of meaningful weight loss, at the end of this finish line I'll awaken to, "hey there's nothing we can do." I'm not sure I would have picked this life (having children) if I had known that in advance.

Hopefully my surgeon pulls it off.

Last time I went through this process I was 21 and in college. Man, what a different world I live in 14 years later. 

My office- my dream job- is a dumpster fire lately. Not enough staff, too much transition, etc. I am constantly constantly telling clients, "I'm so sorry you're just seeing me now..." and it's wearing on me. 

My family is very demanding too. Three children under 5 years old is a lot. A husband who struggles with depression. Breastfeeding.

I'm proud of myself that I carved out enough time to jump through all the insurance hoops and get the surgery scheduled. My family (my parents) were not supportive and there was a lot of pushing for me to delay or cancel. I did not. It will be hard at work, and particularly hard on my docket partner, who is such a hard worker and an asset. But there's no perfect time to take off, and I pushed forward. I have a date: 1/24/23. 

But now come the practical questions: Can I start committing to exercising now? Can I find 30 minutes in my day to do that now? Is it worth not getting enough sleep if I can fit it in? Can I function on less sleep? To be clear, i get 7-8.5 hours a night. It's not a small amount. It's just when the sleep debt accumulates I can't usually get more. Too many demands early and late. 

Will I be able to resume this frantic pace? How long will I be before I feel okay enough to do the things I need to do for everyone that needs me? 

Based on prior experience, I think some things will get easier. Exercise is much easier when I'm a reasonable weight and I feel better. However long it takes to heal- well, everyone will just need to make do. And I will need to make decisions about things that I can realistically maintain while being a trial attorney, mom, and wife. 

Still working on making my needs and my health a priority, but I'm doing okay at it for now.

Pre-op requirements look different when I'm working and mom'ing three small children. The first go-round I was in college. I have much less free time now.

The surgeon I picked seems very competent and knowledgeable. (Muhammed Jawad at Orlando Health). I was worried no one would consider operating because of the scar tissue I have from my former complications. He said this makes me ineligible for the sleeve but he okay'd the Bypass. My risk of complications is about 10x higher but he said my risk of death was 0. I feel less cavalier about it than I did at 20.

I am waiting for my cardiologist clearance appointment now. If no further testing is needed, my packet can be sent to insurance next week.

I know there are big adjustments in my future but I feel a lot more aware of the processes and the realities. I think the thing I will miss the most is Advil. I already couldn't take Aleve and now the reality that pain medicine is basically a no no for all of time is a little scary. 

Other than that I'm looking forward to a more active life chasing my kids. Hopefully we can get this show on the road before the end of the year.

It's nice to return to these pages and remember the journeys that I have gone through. It's nice to be at a place now where my weight isn't such a constant thought and struggle, but is just one facet of me in my busy fulfilling life.

I am happy to report that from my last post in November, things eventually got better. I started walking to my coworkers house- about 3 miles most days before work. I started calorie counting again. I also explored priobiotics and began taking a supplement. I lost about 20 lbs, was back to 180 or a little under, and it was lovely. I love seeing the pictures from last May. Then, as life tends to do, life changed. My coworker got another job and left our office. Don decided he wanted to start work (despite not finishing his PhD yet). He accepted a job in Deland, Florida. We made a hasty move to Ocala, where I have been working for several years now, and Don and I switched the commuter role.

I put back on the weight then and was hovering around 190-195 again, but I felt less overwhelmed by it. Armed with the knowledge that I could again return to calorie counting and exercise and shed those pounds, I had some grace for myself, but kept weighing in and monitoring. I slowly came down a smidge.

Then Don and I decided we would try to get pregnant. I got my IUD removed, but for two months before that time I weaned myself off my medicine (Adderall), caffeine, and cut back on drinking wine in expectation of fully stopping soon. I exercised consistently and improved my diet significantly. But I gained about 18 pounds, up to 205. I thought the moment that I went back into the 200 land was going to be awful. I haven't- even for an instant- been there since about two weeks after my emergency surgery in 2009 when they removed my band. I was miserable, and feeling very out of control. But, the weight plateaud there, and I decided I could live with it for the moment.

Trying to get pregnant sucks majorly. I have never really been interested in having a child with my own biological similarities. I had such a hard time accepting in life that I was me, and that included a physical form that I should be nice to- rather than believing that I was this awesome soul trapped in this disgusting shell that obscured who I was. The idea of passing that on to anyone feels like the ultimate act of hatred. Why would I want to pass obesity on to my child? Why would I intentionally create something that will be trapped in the same body that I felt was a prison to me for so many years? And what kind of fucked up relationship will I have with that child when I feel that oppressive guilt over doing that to him/her? Hence why I have wanted to adopt- and that desire hasn't really changed much for me over the years. There are also other reasons- I am very worried about what pregnancy will do to my plastic surgery, and whether I'll still be mostly satisfied with how my stomach looks. I resent that I will be giving up my body and my life for a year or more- saying "No" to many of the things I really love- red wine, adderall, caffeine, scuba diving, and roller coasters. I also just think, independent of all my negatives about having a baby, I love and find beautifully meaningful adoption. I think its just epic to give kids who are already present in this world a loving, stable home. To graft them into a family. I love the idea of adopting kids from the DCF system. I would love to adopt a sibling group. To me, its a much more rich, rewarding idea, then needing to create something which shares my genetic makeup.

But, I am not alone in this path through life. I made Don a promise that if he would talk to me about and consider adoption-only, then if he decided that he'd feel unfulfilled not having a 'bio-baby' (which is my somewhat pejorative nickname for a biological child), then I would have him a bio-baby. And that's where we stood in June.

Seeing no reason to delay the process, and (honestly) once the decision was made doing a 180 degree turn and worrying that we were going to wait too long, that I would have problems because of my old PCOS and hormone issues, etc., I saw a doctor in March, and got my IUD out in June. I read every article, and approached the task of getting pregnant with as much gusto as I approach costumes and parties. I ate every food they recommended, avoided everything I was supposed to avoid, and quickly became the poster child of peeing on sticks, taking my temperature (Basal body temperature, or BBT as they call it). Don and I have had lots and lots and lots of sex. Both fun and anxious, trying to get the timing right, throwing the timing out the window, somewhere in between... everything. And every month I get my period just like normal.

It's caused a lot of craziness in me, and more than a little fatalism. All of a sudden the girl who never wanted to get pregnant is super invested and heartbroken that she can't get pregnant. I hate this irony. Ultimately, when talking to my doctors, I decided to start taking adderall again, despite the fact that I am still trying to conceive. If I do somehow end up pregnant, I will stop taking it right away. But it has helped me immensely to not feel like my entire life is on hold for this cyclical hell process that will never end. Its easy giving up the alcohol, and it wasn't a big deal about the caffeine. So far, my opportunities to scuba have been on the 2 weeks of the month that I know I am not pregnant, so that's been a non-issue, and I rollercoaster the shit out of life and don't feel the least bit bad about the possibility that I could be 5 days pregnant or whatever.

I'm still weighing in at 203 pounds, despite having been back on adderall for about a month. Adderall itself won't do much- it curbs my appetite a little I guess, but it will help me avoid my constant temptation for sugar, and make it easier for me to succeed should I get back on a diet plan. But as of now, I haven't started one because of my concern that it will be yet another stumbling block in the trying-to-get-pregnant path.

Suprisingly, I am more okay with this than I have ever been. Don't get me wrong, I hate how tight my clothes are, and I am not thrilled when I look at pictures of myself. But I am missing that crippling anxiety that I used to have when I was gaining weight. That is a huge blessing in this, because its anxiety-ridden enough in the TTC (trying to conceive) world. The plan is to start medical intervention/diagnostics as soon as my doctor will allow, which is probably going to be in December. Depending on that path, I may take 6 months or so off of 'actively' trying so that I can return to a more regimented diet and lose some of this weight. If not, I will attempt to slowly affect the scale (which has never been more forte, but it can't hurt to try).

I am happy about where I am mentally with all of this, and I feel like I continue to grow in self awareness and self acceptance, which makes me proud. This journey is messy, and I know that I will have some struggles and failures, but I know that I will continue to prioritize treating myself well and taking care of myself on the outside, not just the inside.

Life is a never ending journey, which so often feels like a never ending struggle when it comes to health and weight. You'd think with all the attention I'd given to it, that'd I'd be a guru master by now. But here I am, clocking in around 195, one year into marriage, and totally grossed out and scared by what I see in the mirror.

Numerous numerous numerous conversations with my husband over "What can we do? How can we change? How can I take care of myself?" went from dissapointment to dissapointment. Part of it is that we're still adjusting to married life, living together, eating together, budget, the whole nine yards. Part of it was work stresses. Part of it was just not wanting to be more extreme about it.

Biggest difficulties lie with dinner and exercise. Dinner is a neverending source of strife in our household. Basically, when Don told me his Ph.D. was going to take an extra year, we decided that we'd stay living in Gainesville, I'd keep commuting for an hour, and he would take over the lions share of the cooking/grocery shopping. This is somewhat against the grain for him. We had periods of success, and lots of failure, which resulted in lots of takeout. We tried e-meals, cooksmart, and a bunch of other options. We planned and replanned.

Recently, I have told him because of the numbers on the scale, that I needed to go back to eating healthy dinners pretty much at any cost. Which meant I was going to cook on my own, unless he wanted to eat what I made. When I was single and in law school, I would make tempeh burgers with steamed green beans most nights. it takes almost no preparation, and its rather healthy. it also permits long stretches without having to grocery shop. Reluctantly, Don got on board with this arrangment. It's working splendidly.

The other part is exercise. I interviewed at a job in Gainesville, which would allow me to walk or bike to work. I'm not sure if that is going to pan out. Today, we went on a walk in the neighborhood, and we walked a different way than we had before. All of a sudden, I realized that we were almost halfway to my co-workers house that I carpool with. So I think that I can walk/jog that in the mornings and still commute with my co-workers and then I will have some forced exercise. I am giddy with excitement over this possibility. I know that walking to class in law school was a huge reason why I was able to keep active. I love that I may be able to do that again.

Everything else is lovely. I am hopeful that Don will embrace this new family push toward fitness. He's been pretty receptive so far. We're talking about getting him a fitbit.

with hope,
Ann

I managed to keep my weight off for a few years. That plus a tummy tuck has put me in a place where I generally feel happy how I look and feel, though I always have my ups and downs. I got my sleeve, I slimmed down. I graduated college and worked in Houston- I fluctuated. I started law school, I gained. I got a tummy tuck, I slimmed down a bit. I was healing, I gained. I was studying for the bar, I slimmed down (and got myself in really good shape, thanks to my study workouts). I got a job, I gained. I got engaged, I slimmed down. I got married, I gained.

That's where I am now. I told myself I wouldn't let myself get to the point where I was buying a different size clothing, but I have. And I'm noticing more and more my negative feelings toward myself as a result of it. I don't like pictures as much, I don't like my clothes, I don't feel confident, I'm not as interested in sex, the list goes on.

But, doing this diet and exercise thing with a significant other... is fucking difficult. Doing it with a significant other who is content to round out is really really difficult. I don't want to have to isolate myself. I don't want to have to prepare different meals all the time, and say no to things to do/have because I need to take my health seriously. I don't want to. But something needs to change. I've had some luck before by doing sporadic times of calorie restriction/dieting, and then when I get back 'in the clear' I will relax a bit. That may be called for now. I've been attempting to integrate small things first, without doing anything that will sabotage the peace and tranquility of my epic new family life. But so far my efforts have failed, and the weight is still creeping on.

I'm evaluating options now, and may write more as thoughts develop...

So, I'm here for another one of my sporatic posts. I am 4 1/2 years out from my sleeve/emergency fix to my band, about 5 years out from starting the whole process, and 9 months out from my tummy tuck. I have been exercising without my spanx, because it felt so normal I forgot... but I will probably grab them as I remember, especially if I want to do longer sessions.

Life wise, I am still in Gainesville, Florida. I graduated from law school, studied for three months, and then took the bar. I then moved in with a family from my church to begin my elaborate waiting process for the results. Yesterday, I found out that I passed.

I'm really proud of myself in that I managed to gain only a negligible amount of weight while studying 10+ hours a day. And really, almost all the weight I gained was solid muscle because I was working out 5-7 days a week for 1-3 hours a day (I listened to my lectures while at the gym, which was the only reason I 1. survived the bar 2. didn't gain 20 pounds in the process. So, that was pretty epic.

I'm living on the generosity of people around me and my parents now, so I put off joining a gym for awhile, and I have been eating whatever is being cooked mostly. I've been trying to focus on still getting vegetables in, but of course its hard to say no to tasty right there ready for you food. More than anything though, my undoing has been a combination of not really having much to do during the days (sedentary life), having access to a ton of sweets (which were always my downfall), and getting off my ADD meds which help me stay active, focused, productive, and goal oriented.

So, last week I decided to start by joining the YMCA close to home. The machines are pretty dinky and they don't have the options that I had at southwest rec (UF's gym) but I love how close it is, and it was very cheap. Today, I am going to fast to jump start my calorie restricting and the return to "stomach, you're not the boss of me" eating. I haven't really noticed the weight gain too much in my clothing, but I have seen it in my extremities. I'd say I put on another 5 pounds, making me dangerously close to the panic-mode 190 number.

Honestly, this is going to be much harder. I have never been good at resisting sweets, ever. I love them. I could eat them all the time. And having them in the house, well, yeah. Also, I cook dinner for the family I live with, and my boyfriend often eats with us, so its been harder for me to bow out and cook my own food. It's also just an incredibly stressful time for me in life, waiting to hear back about jobs, not being sure about whether I can hack it, etc. So, I'm not freaking out or really upset with myself, but I do want to take back my body and keep it from gaining more weight. I've worked too long and too hard to get slack now.

One major difference of now than before when I used to be doing all this, is that I'm in a relationship and devote a lot of time to being together. I tried once to calorie restrict when I was with Don, and I was so cranky I just couldn't handle it. It was also weird because I asked him yesterday if he found himself less attracted to me, and he said, "No. I've been watching for it, and I noticed you had gained weight, but I'm not less attracted to you because of it." On the one hand, this was really nice, reassuring, and honest. On the other hand I was thinking, "I haven't gained that much weight, and he's noticing?" (He is very unobservant generally). It was just a little sobering that two or three pounds would be noticeable.

So, that's the current fight and the current plan. Just wanted to get it down somewhere to help me stick to it in the coming weeks.

Frances

One thing I am not a fan of about plastics is the healing process. man bariatric surgery is like a walk in the park compared to this stuff. I am almost 6 weeks out and I'm supposed to be wearing a compression garment for the next six weeks. (And, like anyone who has been through PS I am damn certainly gonna follow my surgeons requirements to the T. too much money spent to risk messing up my result in any way!) I hate the garment because I live in Florida, and even though its january I would really be wearing shorts right now if the leg parts didn't go most of the way down my thighs. I'm also not a fan of the pee hole- even though its convenient, its kinda gaping large, and it makes me feel like I'm super exposed in my most private area. That's really annoying.

My surgeon, impressive though he is in some regards, is not always so great in the precise-instruction department. I often am left wondering things, or calling the office back for clarification.

I got my drain removed on Christmas eve, which was nice for the holiday. On Christmas we noticed that I had two little stitches in a lipo area that they had apparently forgotten to take out at the doc's office. Luckily, my aunt is a doctor and she took em out for me, but talk about shake your confidence in your home surgeon.

anyway, I spent a lot of time in a car for the holidays. The day after christmas I came back to Gainesville. I'm a law student, and I was moving everything out of my apartment to do a semester internship in Houston, to see if I wanted to settle down there (as opposed to Florida, where I am now). Mostly the move was socially motivated- I had a hard time plugging in to a community here, and if I was going to make a fresh start, it seemed advantageous to do it in a city where I had connected easily, and where I already have friends and family.

That was the initial plan anyway. Things got hard because the Public defenders office doesnt hire out of law school. I also applied with the District attorneys office, and they hire out of law school, but I am way more slanted toward being a defense attorney. Also, I expected to hear in time to move all of my stuff out of my Gainesville apartment before surgery. That did not happen. Instead I was scrambling around the day after christmas, trying to get everything taken care of in a 2 day window including selling all my furniture and finding a subleasor.

Since my father had already been to gainesville once that month, I asked around with my friends to see if anyone was willing to move my stuff with me. obviously, being right over 3 weeks out, I wasnt allowed to lift anything much (not over 20 lbs). My best guy friend Don is always down for an adventure- and he rose to the calling. I promised him a spectacular road trip, feeding and drink expenses, and a flight back to gainesville.

We set off on August 29th for New Orleans. The morning was spent selling furniture and loading everything else I own in my car. there was zero space to spare. thankfully, don is an engineer grad student. that definitely helped. After the 8 hour long car trip, I was ready to hit up Bourbon street. I had only had maybe a glass of alcohol since before thanksgiving, so I was very ready to 'catch up'. Thankfully, Don and I have been friends for a year and a half, so I feel no inhibitions about having a good ole' time and getting back safely. He drinks a lot too, but also manages his alcohol better than me.

Things get weird when we get back to my mothers apartment. Don is a friend from church, and we've been friends so long that I honestly didn't think anything could really change that. Add to that a conversation that went about like this, back in November:
Don: Uh... where do you see our relationship going?
Me: (Proceed to word vomit all my thoughts).... Well, I'm not really attracted to you romantically. But that may be because you always treat me really platonically.... I mean, maybe it would change? I am willing to explore that so long as you can PROMISE me we could go back to being friends if we don't work out... I mean if I don't end up being attracted ....
Don: Wait. Actually, I'm not attracted to you either. I just want to be friends.
Me: (Wondering why the heck we had to have this discussion).... ooohhh. okay. yeah. well, that's simpler. and that's what we both want. cool.

In between that convo and New Orleans, we spent time together a lot (but we had before that too). He also came to Miami, and I did thanksgiving with his family (which he assured me wasnt too relationship-y, I was stuck in Florida and we were coming back from our miami trip, so it made sense).

Well, that night in New Orleans, things changed. I went downstairs to the bedroom he was sleeping in to retrieve my pajamas, and he threw me onto the bed and started touching me... and then a few seconds later, kissing me. It shocked the hell outta me because he had given me no indication previously that his feelings had changed whatsoever. So, when my brain catches up to my body, I tell him to stop. He's too close of a friend to be a drunken hook-up, I tell him. Not to mention I dont ever hook up with friends really. Then he admits that he's been thinking about doing that for awhile, and I remember our earlier conversation about trying... and so I just try. Clothes come off. sex almost happens.... thankfully, I happened to always keep condoms at my place, the entire contents of which was in my car. The next morning I wake up naked lying next to one of my best friends, in the downstairs bedroom of my mothers apartment which I was certainly not planning on sleeping in. Furthermore, in the light of day facts swiftly catch up to me. The boy next to me had way more to drink than I did. In fact, he's the first person I know to successfully consume 2 hand grenades. and he had more than that. Second fact: this boy has never before had any kind of intimacy with a girl. never. no kisses, no hand-holding, nothing. and I nearly took his virginity. 

I wait for him to stir and try as calmly as possible to question him about the previous night. He smiles at me when he wakes.
Me: "Are you okay?"
Don: "Yeah, I'm good. Are you?"
Whew. next question, less sure. Me: "Do you... do you remember last night?"
Don: "Yes, of course. I knew what I was doing."

For the rest of our trip, I explored the physical side of my relationship with this man at night in the bedroom. We didn't touch much during the day at first, though that happened more as time went on. Eventually, I gave my virginity to him (and he gave me his) the last night that we were together. We were at my destination in Houston.

At the time I had sex with him, I didn't know what we were going to do after he left. He wanted to try to date long distance. I didn't. I guess I kinda thought it would be a special thing that we could share together, and that it would be worthy of being my first time, and I didn't need to figure out the relationship to decide that.

Sex didn't change things for me. Being intimate with him did change things some- it made me more attached to him. But actual sex as opposed to just being naked with him... no difference. At least for me.

After he left, everything got crazy. my internship was postponed, so I drove to gainesville to spend some more time with him, figure things out, and party my last week of vacation away. And take care of things I haddnt before. We ate dinner on my floor, on napkins because I no longer had my dishes with me, and we drank wine out of cups he was supposed to take to goodwill for me. It was fun. We had sex twice more, but he became very conflicted about it and the spiritual/intimacy implications of the decision to share that. So we stopped. I honestly don't care. I enjoyed the sex, but I know all the benefits to waiting, and I think its much more important that he feels comfortable, and maybe that we establish some other types of intimacy more before that gets re-introduced.

Eventually, I was confronted with the reality that he couldnt just shelf our relationship and try to date other people for five months while i was gone. I didn't want to have him committed while I wasn't, so we were looking at a long distance relationship. my first relationship- long distance. His first too. Finally, I realized that being in Houston didnt make any sense at all anymore, with my job possibilities and such, if Florida would still be a realistic desire of mine after the semester ended. It would be hard to look for jobs in Florida while in Houston, and it would be hard to really invest in being in Houston if part of me wanted to be back in Florida. So, I dropped the plans and came back here. No stuff- I didn't have time to go to Houston and get it. No furniture- I had sold it all. And a week late for classes.

My biggest holdback was that I was worried people would assume I moved halfway across the country for a boy. He definitely did tip the scales, but I know that I was almost here anyway. And I know that staying in Florida right now and giving this relationship a chance and also working in the system of law I already know is the best step for me right now.

I have a new compression garment that I mentioned earlier. I am still really lethargic still from surgery. I have no furniture. BUT I have a new body, a new boy, and a bunch of new beginnings. so I'm having fun. I bought my first 2 piece swimsuit, and I am very glad I will be in florida to rock it on a beach soon.

whew. what a long post. I guess heart matters warrant more detail. at least in my mind. I'm hoping I keep shrinking- I still fit into all my old clothes, which is a little sad. I like how my stomach looks though, for the most part.

Ann



 

I'm at 2 weeks. should have gotten the drains out but I'm still oozing too much liquid, so the doc is making me keep it till monday. boo. I'm so over it. I'm going out of town this weekend and was looking forward to a new compression garmet, a go-ahead to have alcohol, and a chance to show some old friends my new figure. now I'm gonna be a lumpy sober mess. oh well, its better than getting fluid buildup and having to be drained via needles. been there.

new pics!

I say, I am somewhat shocked that I (and my parents) could willfully go through another elective surgery, but here we are again. December 6, 2012, I had a tummy tuck + lipo + muscle tightening. I've noticed since from the other surgeries that my pain tolerance didn't recover- I still start making noise and remarks when things hurt rather than shutting up about them. It's almost like I can't be silent anymore, I get too afraid.

I didn't manage to lose much weight pre-surgery like I would have wanted to. In fact, I clocked in at about 186 on the day of surgery, which is much more like my usual weight than the result of any ambitious diets. It was a crazy semester, and I didn't get to exercise nearly as much as I would have liked to. The surgery also came right in the middle of craziness happening with life and school- at the time that I'm writing this now, I still don't know if I will be living in Houston or in Gainesville next month. But that's a long story.

My surgeon put me on a liquid diet two days before the procedure- which I was none too happy about. After all the weeks of liquids with my stomach surgeries, I hate liquid diets now. What was even stranger was that he made me take this liquid that flushes out your system two nights before surgery- after doing a full day of clear liquids. I think- one or the other man! So I was a bit of a bear those two days.

The people at the surgery center were infinitely nicer than all the nurses I've dealt with at all the hospitals I stayed at. That was a pleasant surprise. They got an IV started, my doctor marked me up, they shaved my pubic area a bit, and I was in surgery around 8 AM. Waking up was hard. I noticed almost immediately that my abdominal muscles were having spasms, and man they HURT. Furthermore, even though my doctor said he usually over hydrates his patients to force them to get up and go to the bathroom, I could not pee before I left the surgery center. that led them to catheterize me, which I was NOT thrilled about, and I had to take it home. When they did hook me up I had almost nothing in my bladder, and the liquid was dark yellow- I was so mad, I TOLD them I didn't have to pee! Having the foley though proved to be a wonderful thing for me- my mouth was super dry from the medicines I had been given, and I was able to drink as much water as I wanted without having to get up once. I actually didn't get up once, though my parents tried to encourage me to. The muscle spasms were really intense, and I was terrified to move.

The next day, I had to walk to the car and then walk from the car to my surgeons office. It hurt, a lot. My body was so weak that my legs were shaking like jello. I moved like a slug. not my finest moment. My pain was barely at my tolerance point as it was, so walking even a few hundred feet had me teary and exhausted when I made it to the exam room. The nurses removed the catheter and they asked me if I wanted to see my new stomach. I honestly didn't want to. I was scared about how it would feel when they took the abdominal binder off of me, and I didn't feel like doing much of anything at that point. When my doctor came, he was all smiles and said it looked very good- he told me I seemed "underwhelmed" at my stomach. I told him I was just in a lot of pain and I would be very excited soon.

I had been going going going so much lately that I never really stopped to look at pictures, or see (more recently) what I could expect from this abdominoplasty. I have a new bellybutton that is high up and (in my minds eye) weird looking. I also have a big patch of dimply/not smooth skin on my right side. My doctor did fuss at me about the peritonitis (Sp.?) I had after my emergency surgery- he said there was a bunch of scar tissue that he had to clean out. I’m not sure if that’s the spot where I have the dimple now, because I remember it restricted my breathing but I thought it was on my L side not my right side.

I expected the binder that I have to wear to be different from the other ones I had after my gallbladder and my other WLS. But this binder is exactly the same. I wish it was slightly bigger, and was holding things in slightly tighter, than it is.

I spent another night in the hotel room after my 1 day visit, because me and my parents didn’t want to try to brave the 21 stairs to my mom’s apartment. Both of my parents were incredibly supportive of me and went and got me whatever food I asked for, and were extremely willing to fetch for me even in the middle of the night when I needed water, tissue, pain killers, etc. The next morning, I came up to mom’s apartment and I’ve been here since then. Mom has a massaging chair which reclines, and I fell into it almost immediately and moved very little outside of going to the bathroom.

My doctor told me I could shower after on day 2 after, but it wasn’t until day 4 that I wanted to. I was able to stand up (bent over really, since I’m not supposed to stand straight yet) in the shower and once I toweled off I actually got a good look at my body. It was (is) much smaller. I’m very happy for that. It’s still very surreal, and doesn’t much feel like me, but I know it will come to feel that way more and more in the following weeks.

I have two drains, which are not a big deal at all remembering the four I had at one point. I know they won’t be so fun to take out, and neither will the staples, which will come out on my next post op visit tomorrow.

Everyone had been warning me that constipation was an issue- I ran into that on night #3. It hurt so much and my parents were running around trying to find laxatives/stool softeners that would work, while communicating with my doctor. Anyway, now that we’re over that hurdle I’ve been taking my fiber pills again and taking a stool softener every day so I don’t experience that again.

Another much more significant issue I’ve had is nausea. I was not in any way nauseated the first day- partially I think at least due to the fact that I had a huge appetite and ate and drank a ton. Well, on night 3 and 4, I started throwing up hourly. I would just wake up and puke into a bowl, and then go back to sleep. This would happen for several hours. I was taking anti-nausea medicine, but it didn’t help. Let me tell you, vomiting when you have a ton of stitches in your abdomen is NOT fun. It was very scary, I often felt like I was tearing things. Last night, we finally were able to switch the nausea medicine to one that worked, and I made sure that I ate as much as I felt like I could before I had my antibiotic. The result- no puking!

I’m excited for my appointment tomorrow- I want to ask my doctor about the dimply area on my right side, and if it will go away. I also want to know about (eventually) piecing my belly button. It’s just too cute to not, I think. I also want to hear about when I can change positions while sleeping, and if I can eventually switch to spanx rather than this abdominal binder, which I’m not sure holds everything in as well. Generally, I just feel like I will be more able to think of questions now that I’m not just overwhelmed with the pain.

So, that was a long update. It was a nice distraction for me, since I woke up and the rest of my family is still asleep. I am starting to nod off again, so I will bid farewell for now.

Ann