A Lesson Learned the Hard Way

Yesterday I learned a valuable lesson the hard way.

Day before yesterday, I was in the zone cleaning the house.  It felt so good to work with the energy in our home and take care of things I either didn’t have the energy or desire to do previously. 

What I didn’t do all day is take enough water.

I woke up at 6 a.m. yesterday, which is the usual time, to encourage Elizabeth out of bed.  Then, I went back to bed until 7, when Elizabeth is ready to go downstairs.

I woke up at 7 and was absolutely freezing.  My body has hot and cold swings since the vertical gastrectomy (weight loss surgery), and it’s primarily because I’ve lost weight quickly.  But yesterday morning, my coldness was off the charts, even worse when my hormones were rearranging after I had Elizabeth in 1997.  I was chattering so intensely, I couldn’t move.  Finally, after a good 10 minutes of trying, I managed to get up, get downstairs, and put myself on the big chair in the living room. I was exhausted and thought I had a relapse of the flu.

I spent the morning sleeping on and off, but what I couldn’t comprehend was that I wasn’t making sense all the time.  Leslie would ask me a question, and I mumbled the answer.  Not normal.  I was also running a fever of 103 degrees, which Tylenol couldn’t seem to bring down efficiently, and as you know, I can’t take non-steroidal anti-inflammatory drugs. 

Leslie got that urgent look in her eyes, and took over the situation.  We called the doctor, and a nurse told Leslie to get me to the emergency room. I argued with Leslie, but she was adamant. So I put myself together and off we went.

While in the waiting area at Mills Peninsula, I actually passed out.  First my ears began ringing, and then I had to go to the bathroom.  They put me on a wheel chair, but once I got to the restroom, I was lolling about like a rag doll.  I actually lost consciousness. Scary for me, but it was really scary for Leslie, who yelled for help.

We were put in a room finally and waited forty minutes for a doctor.  I wasn't aware of the time, however, because I slept most of the time.  It’s like I was in a trance. They took my blood (I was acutely aware of this), and tested me for influenza (which was a q-tip shoved so far up my nose, it was ridiculous, creepy, and felt dreadful), and they hooked me up to an IV.  I argued about that, too, but Leslie insisted, thank God.  The lady from the lab remembered me from when I had my surgery and refused to have my blood drawn.  Everyone got a chuckle out of that.

Once my body had the fluids it needed, I began to sharpen up.

The lab results showed that I’m still slightly anemic which means I have to take that god awful iron elixir every day again.  My white blood cells were also elevated indicating there’s a mild infection somewhere. However, what was absolutely clear was that I allowed myself to get dehydrated, hence the altered state of consciousness and the intense sleeping.

You know, I had a clue about this about a month ago.  I was in the mall with my family.  Elizabeth was spending her Christmas money.  I began to feel very dizzy.  I didn’t take enough water then either.

The lesson here is that I can’t take my body for granted like I could when I was a kid.  I must ensure I take enough water every day, even when I’m “in the zone”.  And I must take my iron and all my vitamins religiously. 

A person can’t lose weight this quickly and ignore the body’s needs.

If you do, the body will protest.

Loudly.

The Hump: One Week After Surgery

My start weight on March 1 was 318 lbs.  Today’s weight is 286.4 lbs.  A 32 pound total loss.

Progress is continuous and that makes this tolerable. I know that every day is a tiny bit easier and brings me a bit closer to recovery.  Each day I can handle a bit more sustenance; of course, I’m talking about the difference between a quarter cup of vanilla yogurt and a third of a cup. I tried Trader Joe’s cream of tomato soup, was in extreme gassy discomfort for about five minutes, and then up it came.  The same thing happened with super mashed/pureed sweet potatoes.  Some foods simply do not want to stay down.   Yet I get hungry and am compelled to try new foods.  Also, my nose works just fine! All food smells heavenly, particularly when I’m hungry.

I went to my first post-surgery doctor’s visit today. I am in the midst of what I call THE HUMP. I have very little energy. I wake up feeling okay, good even, get my head around the day, ease into something to eat, then something to drink. Taking a shower and getting dressed makes me tired. But I can bounce back from that. Then, if we have errands or an appointment, I’m good until about 1:00 p.m. By 3:00 p.m., I’m completely wiped out. I mean, tired like I used to get when I was pregnant with Elizabeth.  This is the hump. I am in the middle of recovering from surgery, and I'm taking in very little sustenance.  As my stomach continues to heal, I’ll be able to take in more foods, which will provide more energy and so forth.   The doctor said my body is confused. It's not sure if we're starving so it's reserving energy.  This will work itself out over the next few weeks.

In spite of these inconveniences, and compared to a lifetime of  joint pain and health issues related to morbid obesity, this is the most effective way for me to take the reins of my health. I realize that a women’s right to her body type is indeed her right, but to me it’s science. A younger body is more equipped to handle 150+ extra pounds.  Approaching 50 … not so much.  We are lucky that this process, like so many other things, is readily available in our demographic.  To get this started, all I had to do was call the doctor’s office.


Leslie's weight loss is consistent. I'm so proud of her will power.  And Elizabeth is super aware of what she eats, and continues to push us toward vegetarianism.  She gives me these precious looks of pride, though, and every so often asks with great sincerity, "Are you okay, Nana?" My girls make my heart melt.

I’ve dropped down into my body with an audible plop. I’m more aware of my physical self now than I’ve been since I was a teenager dancing five days a week.  My imagination still wanders to and fro with very little fencing, particularly now that I’m not working. But, I am acutely focused. In fact, I’m focused down to the most intense point for me at this time … a small glass of ice water.

What a Day (More Adventures in Weight Loss Surgery)

My weight loss surgery, the gastric sleeve, is less than one week away. Today, my family and I attended pre-op appointments at the hospital from 11:00 a.m. to 4:00 p.m. I met with the head nurse in the Anesthesia Department, and the Lab took more of my blood. We attended a meeting about my surgery’s process and recovery, learned a lot more about what I can and can’t eat at what time in my recovery specifically, and had another hour with a nutritionist.

The surgical process is really cool. It’s laparoscopic, so my abdominal cavity will be expanded with carbon dioxide (the kind we breathe out), to provide the doctor with a clear working area that’s seen through a tiny camera. Then, all the work is done through tubes. In the end, I should have only five tiny incisions. The worst part of all this is that I have to be at the hospital at 6:00 a.m. because I’m first on the table. Gross. I’m no morning person. There’s a video describing the procedure at the bottom of this post.  It's from a different hospital, but it’s instructional without being graphic.

I was very happy to hear that people come from all over the world to get this procedure from my doctor. He’s an expert in his field, which made me feel good. It’s ironic. I picked him because he was closest to our house, and because I know one of his patients.  He's one of the best in the world.

The day was long and when it was over, it brought my commitment closer to home. I found myself needing time alone to “chew” over it all, so I took the dogs to the dog park to get some time to myself. Leslie was home with her foot elevated. She really pushed it too far (read more here). Elizabeth got very concerned about everything and was upset in an indirect manner, which is typical for kids. So to unwind, we spent the evening cloistered in the living room with our dogs. Leslie made a super dinner, and we watched and capped on ridiculous reality teevee shows. Later on, when Elizabeth got the clicker, she and Leslie watched “The Family Guy” which is always good for a laugh. Our daughter made Leslie a convert.

What a day.

BUT WHY SURGERY?

This post is the second in a series about my weight loss surgery coming up.  You can read the first post at http://sapphokinesis.blogspot.com/2012/05/positive-change-all-around-is-good.html.

A year ago, I was reorganized out of my management position with an HR Management Consulting firm in downtown San Francisco.  Thereafter, I found myself using my body more than ever hauling things in and out of the garage for yard sales, selling my action figures at flea markets, and hawking my art at festivals.  These activities required more physical work than I’ve done in years.  It took the past year for my body to truly voice its displeasure.  Joint pain, knee problems, muscle spasms and on-going and increasing issues got louder and louder until finally, at almost 48 years old, I am unable to ignore them.

I was a large woman living a sedentary adult life which revolved around my career as an office manager or administrator and included a lot of staring at the computer.  Being heavy was annoying for as long as it took to walk from the BART train to the office.  That, and when I went clothes shopping. Ironically, I grew up dancing so was svelte and in shape as a young adult, but as the weight went on, I exercised less and less.  I had our daughter in 1997 and grew to my heaviest at that time. Then, I surpassed it, and at 43, I hit my heaviest at 340 pounds on this five foot four inch frame.  Just a month and a half ago I was 318.

Near as I can figure, somehow, somewhere along the way, I managed to hit the “off” switch to my body awareness and ignored the signs of this imbalance.  I knew I’d have to deal with my weight eventually.  I wanted to.  But I put it off repeatedly.  There was stress at work, stress at home, and a million other reasons to put aside making myself healthier.  I’d look in the mirror and focus on my face, and I avoided taking pictures for a very long time.  Time went on, and my poor practices became habits. 

Yet this cloud had a silver lining.  Being out of work, gave me the gift of time.  First, I decompressed. I tackled some things I’d wanted to do. Art things. Then, I slowed down and unraveled, put aside financial concerns and the drama that accompanies unemployment, and my stress slowly dissipated.

In this quiet, the universe began tossing messages at me.  Yes, I’d considered weight loss surgery some time ago, but I was afraid of it.  It seemed unapproachable.  Then, Leslie’s niece, Tami, had “the sleeve” done.  Leslie’s sister, too. They experienced different levels of success with their procedures. Despite some complications, Tami is down at least 100 pounds.  I bumped into a woman at one of our yard sales who was very happy she had it done.  And Lauren, one of the moms I’ve been scrapbooking with, has lost 100 pounds one year after her surgery, and she’s only a few weeks away from having her breasts reduced.

But why surgery? 

I’ve tried dieting. I’ve joined Weight Watchers twice over the last two years and lost and regained the same twenty pounds twice.   I’ve never been fond of the meetings, not unless the leader is very good at keeping it from becoming a bitch-fest, and even then I got tired of women piling heaps of self-loathing upon themselves for making mistakes.  I’m not heavy because I hate myself, and I didn’t attend Weight Watchers meetings because I need psychoanalysis.

I’ve never been able to make the shift to a healthier lifestyle because dieting completely overwhelms me.  I start with conviction, and then the day to day challenges kick in, and feeling overwhelmed with the struggle ahead, I end up caving in to my old habits.  I need a tool that will remain firm even when my willpower doesn’t.  I want to change my body’s chemistry so I can regain and maintain better eating habits for the rest of my life.

What I need is a complete reboot.

Now, we await word from the insurance company with an approval. Then, I get my surgery scheduled. In the meantime, I’ve stopped eating refined carbs and sugar, and am sticking with protein, veggies, and fruit.  I’ve lost 15 pounds doing so over the last month and a half, and I haven’t started walking yet.  I’ll do that when my body feels better.  Leslie’s lost almost 20 pounds eating the same way I am.  We know from experience that her body scars intensely, so bariatric surgery isn’t the answer for her.  She’s got so much more will power and even more won’t power than I do.  And, of course, we both have our daughter eye balling us like a hawk to ensure we don’t cheat even the tiniest bit.

We don’t want to disappoint her.