the life beyond

not feeling better yet. SO sore and tired and kind of depressed. can't really pinpoint exactly why but i think part of it is that i can't envision the life that's beyond this healing process which is already seeming so long and hard.

the morning after

BYPASS COMPLETED! dr. b was able to do the bypass, though i needed a drain which he didn't expect. basically that means there is a turkey baster hanging off of my stomach which drains the fluids from inside...not sure what they are, don't really want to know. basically, he got in fine, checked out my liver and went ahead with the "bottom connection," committing him to a bypass. but when he got up to the top one, my liver ended up being larger than expected and proved complicated to retract (part of the reason they put you on liquids before is to shrink your liver so it can more easily retracted during surgery to avoid obstructions and a nicked liver - EW!)

since he was already committed to the bypass (i think mentally too, since it was definitely my best option), he went ahead and all was fine, but just as an "insurance policy," he did the drain, meaning that if there was a leak, it would make me less sick by not leaking into my body. okay that's enough of the gross stuff.

after being wheeled through the hospital in bed to a different wing, i had my swallow test which confirmed that there were no leaks, so i finally got to have some water - an ounce every hour. thanks a lot. my mom and i pathetically rationed each ounce into four tiny sips - one every 15 minutes - so that i wouldn't run out before my next ounce. you could have set your watch to my time - every hour at the exact moment the second hand hit the 12, i buzzed the nurse and asked for my ice cold ounce of water. in between, they brought me refrigerated packages of lemon glycerine swabs to keep my mouth and lips wet. they were a lifesaver.

the pain is okay...especially with my self-controlled morphine pump. the thing that hurts most is getting up and sitting down, but my mom and i have discovered that the best way to do it is to lay flat on the bed and let the motorized movement do the work of propping me up or lowering me down. i take walks down the hall as i'm supposed to (starting at 2 in the morning at my own insistence) and the reward is a pretty view out the window at the end of the hall - some fall-colored trees and a church with a steeple - a glimpse at the world beyond the hospital walls. a world i would soon enter in a new way.

image from wikipedia

day of days

today is the day. my nerves are calmed, my mind is resigned to the fact that i won't know which procedure is done until i wake up. of course i'm still praying it's the bypass, and i'm wishing to god i could have a fucking sip of water (nope, not since midnight last night and the surgery isn't until 1 this afternoon!)

i smell coffee in the hospital waiting area and feel a longing sense of wonder - will i ever be able to have coffee again? the friend of a friend i spoke to a few days ago said she's never been able to have it comfortably again and she's seven years out. take my chinese food and pizza and and cupcakes, i've given it all up...even the cigarettes i said goodbye to five years ago, but please don't take my coffee. (the benefit of hindsight allows me to share that as i transfer my handwritten notes to this page, i'm sipping my delicious, beloved coffee with no problem at all).

it feels surreal this morning, definitely, but also peaceful. it's like the fear has drained out of me and now it's just about moving forward. i see dr. b in the hall of the hospital who asks if i'm ready. i say yes, and wonder aloud if he is too. he's ready. it's on.

i tell everyone who will listen that although i feel like i have to go to the bathroom, i can't. the nurse is about to strangle me because she's told me not to worry, but i just feel like it's only fair to let the people who will be handling my intestines know. dr. b laughs and says it's not him, maybe the nurses who will be impacted. no pun intended. any time someone asks me how i'm doing, i tell them i'm thirsty. i am SO thirsty. i ask when i can have some water, and they tell me tomorrow. they're not joking. curiosity killed the bypass patient.

with everyone aware of my bowel situation, my mouth a desert, and all the forms signed and sealed, i say goodbye to my mom and mitchell who have been amazing all day keeping me comfortable and laughing, and i am being wheeled in to my future, all alone. it might be the "martini" the anasthsiologist set me up with once i signed everything away, or the swirling realization that my life was about to change, but it's like i'm in another world, on another plane, and i drift off to sleep amid a slurred conversation about the nurse's favorite TV show...

image from www.newsweaver.co.uk

the day before

had my last appt with dr. b today who was charged up and ready to cut. i can tell he’s at his sharpest and strongest when he’s in surgical mode which i guess is a very good thing. he's happy with where my weight is going in (about 30 lbs down from the liquid diet) and tells me that he's 90% sure he'll do the bypass but that if its unsafe, he'll do the gastric sleeve. EXQUEEZE ME? i think upon hearing that i would have thrown up if there was anything in my body to throw up…smart to put me on liquids before dropping that bomb. somewhere in my racing mind, i suddenly remembered him saying this months ago - that they don't truly know what they're going to do until you're on the table because each person's anatomy is different, but...EXQUEEZE ME?

he further explains: if my stomach wall is too thick or my liver is too large, he'll go for the sleeve, a better option for higher risk, higher bmi patients. he assures me that he's done the bypass on patients heavier than me and with a higher bmi than me and it's all been fine, and he that he doesn't think it will be a problem, he just has to say it. have we met?

this causes me anxiety - obviously - not only because its uncertain, which i despise, but also because i had recently started to wonder more about the sleeve, which i had previously ruled out because it's results, statistically, aren't as profound as the bypass – it’s less invasive and while it’s restrictive like the bypass, it’s not malabsorptive. but my nutritionist had told me she knew of lots of people choosing the sleeve, which had had me wondering in the few weeks leading up to the big day. so when it came up that day, i mentioned it and dr. b said that insurance was approving it a lot these days, and that's the reason for the surge in popularity. he confirmed that the bypass was indeed the gold standard and the best option for me, and again reassured me he thought it would be fine.

the curve ball of this new possibility sent me into high anxiety mode where i wondered if i should take some more weight off via liquids and reschedule the surgery for a month or two later, though i feared that route because my presurgical nerves were already frayed and i worried that given an out, i might chicken out of the whole thing. sophie, dr. b’s PA reassured me that another 20 or 30 lbs would make no difference – it’s not really a matter of the weight, but more a matter of where you carry it, in my case, in my midsection. with that, i had no choice but to resign myself to the notion that whichever procedure it turned out to be would be the right one for me at that moment, and that i would make the very best of whichever one it was. dr. b assured me that although statistically the bypass had the best overall results (with the sleeve next in line, and then the lapband below that), nothing would stop me from achieving the same with the sleeve. nothing except me.

in a way, the added stress of dr. b’s unexpected announcement did me a favor because it became my distraction from the other nerves that were starting to mount, forming a painful lump in my throat as i plowed ahead, unable to see what was beyond tomorrow, beyond the blind curve ahead, because truly, by this point i know that no amount of preparation and reading and thinking and talking could possibly prepare me for what comes next.

most disturbing news of the day was this thought: if dr. b thinks it’s a good idea to lose some more weight and reschedule for a couple months down the road, i could have a solid meal tonight. what would i want?

OY.

image from trish berg