Beyond the play-by-play

Okay, so yesterday I offered a play-by-play of the past week's events; it wasn't very exciting stuff but needed to be done...sorry for the bore fest.

On to the touchy feely stuff...

Christmas Eve was my first outing since the surgery- it had been six days since the big day. Originally it was decided that we weren't going to join my family on the "Eve" and instead they would come over to our house Christmas afternoon to exchange present and hang out-- we all assumed I wouldn't feel up to going anywhere, but come Friday morning I was feeling confident that I was up for the festivities of Christmas Eve.

Side Note: I still can't believe how good I've felt throughout this process. I joked with Brett last Friday that I wasn't convinced that the surgeon actually did the procedure. I felt too good...and I was HUNGRY! Perhaps he just made a few incisions, scrambled my guts for a minute, stitched me back up and took an extra long coffee break. I had expected to not have an appetite for a long time but my stomach was growling and the clear liquids were NOT cutting it! Thank goodness for Tylenol with Codeine- made the hunger pains vanish!

Back to the point of this blog entry...Christmas Eve in my family IS Christmas. We have a spread that could feed an army- cold cuts, cheeses, olives, ham rolls (we'll get to those later) crudite, more cheese and crackers and pepperoni and dough balls (oh man! the dough balls!) plus 15 different kinds of cookies and the night is topped off with a huge pot of linguini with clam sauce. It's quite the occasion. It's kind of an open house sort-of-party, people stop by, eat a little, drink a little, talk a little and eat some more.

Before we left to head west to L-town, I packed a cooler with a can of broth, a clear protein powder drink mix and an eight pack of homemade Crystal Light popsicles. Oh and my pain meds...I was prepared! I had taken my meds at three o'clock and would be due again at seven- I was good to go!

When we got there, my sisters dining room table was already lined with food-- it was beautiful. My first glance was a bit emotional. I actually felt a little choked up knowing that I wouldn't be able to eat any of the once-a-year Italian delicacies...but I took a deep breath and said to myself, "you'll live, Andrea" and that was that. The mourning was over. I did find myself wanting to grab a piece of cheese or salami or SOMETHING a few times but that was only out of habit and because it was there. It was weird to NOT walk by the table and snag a cookie but it wasn't hard. There were a few times that I contemplated pulverizing a ham roll in my sisters blender- technically I was supposed to be on CLEAR LIQUIDS until Monday, BUT I felt like I was ready for some blenderized food-- but I didn't. When the dough balls (perhaps the best part of Christmas Eve) went in the fryer, I heated up my can of broth and sipped it spoonful by spoonful. It hit the savory spot and I survived the DOUGH BALLS!

My family kept giving me apologetic looks. They felt bad eating in front of me and were sorry that I couldn't enjoy the food with them-- but really, I was okay. I wasn't sad at all. I knew when my surgery date was scheduled that I wouldn't be eating on Christmas and I was okay with that...I still am. Eating is what got me to where I am now (or was, 20lbs ago-- yes, I'm down 20lbs since the two-week-prior liquid diet!) and I knew I would survive without dough balls- I'm living proof to show that it IS possible to survive with dough balls- it IS surprising, but true.

I made it the whole night sipping soup and sucking on my Chrystal Light popsicles- which happened to be a big hit with all the kids that were there- I was happy to share. I made it the whole night without temptation until JUST before we left. Remember those ham rolls I mentioned before? Remember how I thought about blending one up? Well, I didn't go that far, BUT I did squeeze the cream cheese out of one and swirled it around in my mouth for a minute- it wasn't even enough to swallow, but it sure was tasty. Who knew ham infused cream cheese could be so delectable?

The next day I decided I was ready to start my pureed diet. Brett made me four hard boiled eggs which I practically liquified with some mayo and calorie free honey mustard and I boiled a potato to make mashed potatoes. They were the best "egg salad" and mashed potatoes I'd EVER had! I finally finished off that egg salad this morning for breakfast and I still have half the mashed taters in the fridge. Crazy, huh?

So what HAVE I been eating? Well, eggs salad and mashed potatoes- two table spoons at a time. The hardest part is not drinking 30 minutes before, with or 30 minutes after eating. I'm finding that I'd rather drink water than eat and occasionally "forget" about the 30 minute rule. It's hard I tell you! HARD! Perhaps the hardest thing I've ever done! Okay, now that's an exaggeration, but it is hard. Actually, I'll tell you what's harder than hard...GETTING IN ALL THE FRICKEN VITAMINS THAT I'M SUPPOSE TO GET IN MY BODY IN ONE FREAKIN DAY!!! I've accomplished this ONCE so far. It seems near impossible. ---I know, I don't need a lecture. I'll try harder. I promise.

I guess that's all for now. So far so good. I feel fantastic and I have nothing to complain about. I will try to update at least once a week to keep track of my progress and document my journey.

Oh one last thing that you may find funny or disgusting or just plain wrong, but I'm happy to report that not only have I not thrown up even once (a common occurrence with gastric by-pass) but my bowels are working like the old pros they are- this makes me extremely happy!

One Week Post Op

Woohoo! It has been eight days since my surgery and I have (almost) nothing to complain about!

The night before the surgery was rough. Both Brett and I had a terrible time trying to sleep. We tossed and turned and talked and snuggled and tossed and turned some more. We tried to go to bed early since we needed to be at the hospital at 5:15 in the morning, but Brett finally gave up on sleep at about 12:30 and I think I finally fell asleep around 1am. Brett woke me up at 3:30, I jumped in the shower, got dressed, kissed the dog and we were out the door. I wasn't scared or nervous just anxious and ready to get it over with. There were short moments during the last couple of days leading up to that morning where I thought about changing my mind but come that morning I was ready with no hesitation.

When we got to the hospital we checked in- all my paperwork had been completed during a pre-op visit three weeks earlier- they gave me my arm band and I waited to be called back. We sat there for what seemed like an eternity, in fact they didn't actually take me back until almost 6:30 (I think). When I got to the pre-surgical area, they made me pee in a cup and change into a hospital gown. A bunch of people came in and talked with me one at a time asking all kinds of questions and eventually the nurse anesthetists put in my IV. After that, Brett and my mom were able to come back and sit with me until it was time for me to go back- which wasn't long. My surgery was scheduled for 8am.

The last thing I remember is someone putting an oxygen mask on me and that was it. I woke up some time later in recovery with a personality-lacking nurse attending to me. What would be a huge nuisance to me for the next several days was immediately apparent...GAS! Being the champion burper that I am, I immediately started burping- I could tell she was impressed even though she didn't get excited about it. I don't remember being in recovery very long before they wheeled me up to my room. I don't remember what I was saying but I do remember chatting along the way. I believe it was about 2pm.

I didn't feel much pain other than the gas- I'm sure the morphine played a big part.

Oh you know what I forgot to mention? If you've been following my blog for a while now, you know how much my ovaries hate me, so guess what? They didn't let me down, I got my period three days before my surgery and it was in full force come surgery day. --I had even taken provera three weeks prior to make sure I'd have a period prior to surgery, when I got it on December 1st, I figured I was in the clear for the 19th...WRONG! Seriously...only me!

Anyway, that afternoon was a bit of a blur. I remember meeting my awesome nurse, I remember my mom and Brett being there. I remember my mom leaving and a flower delivery and I remember eventually getting up to go to the bathroom-- I'm pretty sure I know what it's like to have a baby now...modesty is not an option.

I got up and walked the hall at some point with Brett- the nurse promised me it would help with the gas- she lied.

I slept pretty good that night, in between vitals checks. Tuesday morning I got up and sat in the chair for a while, went for a few walks and drank teeny tiny sips of water from a medicine cup. Brett stayed the night with me Tuesday night we went for lots of walks and I took a much needed sponge-bath. The next morning the doctor came in and gave me a clean bill and told me I could go home before noon. I couldn't believe how good I was feeling. I'd been off the morphine since the night before and had moved onto liquid pain meds- Tylenol with codeine to be exact. There was a brief period when I had gone too long without the meds and found myself in a lot of pain, needing to get out of bed so I could pee when the vitals-girl came around, it was no surprise that my blood pressure had spiked. The nurse came in and pushed some meds through my IV and I was ready to go! I finally got to leave about two hours later.

The ride home was somewhat stressful- I had taken a swig of the pain meds just before we left so the pain wasn't too bad, but it was raining and I was dreading a potential slam of the breaks...it never happened, Brett drove very carefully, but I stressed about it none-the-less.

The rest of the week I mostly just laid around, went for short walks and tried my hardest to drink the recommended 64oz of fluid, which DID NOT HAPPEN-- still hasn't happened but I'm working on it. I felt surprisingly good. Still gassy, very gassy, miserably gassy, but otherwise pretty damned good so good in-fact that I decided we should join my family for the traditional Christmas Eve Party tradition. It was the first day I had put on clothes, did my hair and put on make up in a week-- this is not unusual for me since I work from home, but it felt like a huge accomplishment. When we got to my sister's house everyone was surprised at how good I looked, claiming it looked like I had already looked thinner. The fact of the matter was that I actually weighed more that day than I did the day of my surgery. I had actually GAINED 11 pounds post op- I guess from all of the fluids they pumped in me. Come Saturday I had only lost nine of those eleven pounds so it was probably more that the stitches were pulling my skin tight making me LOOK thinner. :)

Today is Tuesday, it's been eight days since my day of days and I'm now down two pounds from the day of- 15lbs since I started the liquid diet started 3 1/2 weeks ago...I'm hoping the weightloss will pick up- I guess if you count the post op weight gain, I'm actually down 13lbs in one week, eh.

I had so much that I wanted to write over the past week but just couldn't find the clarity or motivation until now and now I feel like I'm missing the point. I do plan to blog more often about this journey- I know for me, reading other blogs has been incredibly helpful and if I can help someone else on their journey with mine I'd be a happy, happy girl.

So, I promise to post more...soon! Actually, I think I'm going to write a second one right now that isn't so boring and IS more informational for those interested in the "process".

Thanks for reading! Questions and comments welcome!

Stressballs! One week to go!

Today is Tuesday, December 13th and in seven days I will go under the knife! I love how dramatic that sounds!

I have been on a liquid diet for ELEVEN days! I'm so proud of myself. I thought these two weeks would be impossible but it's been pretty easy. In fact, these last couple of days I've barely had an appetite at all. I won't say that I don't miss or care about food, that would be a lie. But I've had literally NO cravings- temptations yes, but cravings, no. It probably helps that I've made every effort to avoid any kind of temptation- haven't gone to a restaurant, won't watch food commercials and try hard not to pay too close attention to people eating in movies or on TV, but I still live with a food-eater and some times his food looks and smells SO good! Last night it was saltines dipped in Ranch Dressing- a snack I would usually dismiss but instead it made my mouth water. I could taste the light and airy, salty, crunchy saltines with the sweet-savory tang of the Ranch. I looked at Brett and said, "one bite! just one!" But he didn't hand me one so I just looked away. Actually, I think I got up and washed some dishes.

You may be thinking, that if I can have this kind of will-power right now, why can't I just lose the weight without surgery. I'll tell you...because two weeks is doable, but MONTHS of this- no way! It's not sustainable- nor is it healthy. Three weeks from now I SHOULD (providing everything goes smoothly) be able to eat about a tablespoon of "egg salad" and let me tell you how much I'm looking forward to that! SO forward!

I've been doing a lot of reading of other people's weight-loss experiences on random blogs- I've found it's a good way to keep me focused on the prize. I'm immensely grateful to those who shared their stories- I am feeling more prepared for what's to come.

I know there will be many physical changes, which I'm SO looking forward to but the mental and emotional changes are, I think, going to be the most challenging and perhaps the most dramatic. I can already feel myself getting antsy.

Over the past few years I've created a bit of an insulated cell for myself- a very "safe" environment and have all but given up on things that used to make me happy. Acting, mostly. I haven't even done a show for three years. I've gone to a couple of auditions for things I barely cared about, but I haven't had the energy, confidence or ambition to actively pursue any roles. I thought that it was because I'd fallen out of love with it but I'm realizing now that I'm feeling hopeful about my future; that I just shoved my desires down so I wouldn't have to think about them.

These past eleven days have been quite eye opening. Sad and exciting all at the same time. I didn't realize just how much I haven't felt like myself in so long. I haven't felt truly happy in...a while. I mean, I'm happy, or at least, I'm not unhappy. But I haven't felt that feeling of pure JOY in a long time. I felt joy when the kids were here- but it wasn't pure joy. It was circumstantial joy. Even when I laugh, there is a feeling of literal (not figurative) weight behind my eyes, in my head and on my shoulders. It's physical. I can feel it. (Might just be the weight of being pulled down by the size of my giant ass- figuratively and literally!) But I didn't even notice it until just this week. I guess it's probably depression- the circumstantial kind, hopefully. So like I said, this is both sad and exciting...and a little bit terrifying- but I'm trying not to think about that right now. Okay, maybe I will- just for a minute.

I have two friends who had the surgery last year who have both recently ended their marriages. This scares the ever living shit out of me. I have a gypsy spirit as it is, and the thought of changing so much in this next year to the point of wanting to leave my husband is very upsetting. I know that they both had issues in their marriages long before the surgery and they say that the end was inevitable, but that doesn't make me feel concerned about my own. I love Brett with almost every ounce of my heart. (The other couple of ounces currently belong to Zooey Deschanel.) But I also know, like I said before, that I can feel change a-comin'. I'm getting antsy- not in my marriage, but in my job, my goals, what defines me. Are we going to survive? I have ZERO intention of leaving him...ever. But what happens if I decide that I NEED to go do "something"- like pursue the career that I've avoided for the last several years and he is unwilling to participate? Or what if I get so full of myself that I suddenly think I'm too good for him (I don't think that possible). Or what if I get so annoying that he can't stand it anymore or what if I turn into a complete emotional wreck and go crazy and have to be institutionalized or, what if, what if, what if?

THESE THINGS HAPPEN PEOPLE!

I talk myself down from these thoughts, reminding myself that there's really no way of knowing what the next year will be like. I tell myself, remember last December?

One year ago toady, I was sitting in a hospital room with my sister waiting for my nephew to be born- wanting so badly to be the one giving birth. Brett and I were preparing for our trip to spend the Holidays with friends and family in Phoenix and we had just spent that last several months preparing our home for foster children, 2 children ages 2-6.

My nephew will be a year old tomorrow, I no longer talk to my in-laws (the ones we were spending the holidays with), we ended up with 3 foster children, 7, 9 and 11 who have since gone on to be with their birth-mom and Brett and I have no interest in having children what-so-ever. ONE YEAR! Oh and surgery? Yeah, surgery wasn't even a consideration!

With all of this said, one year from now I'd like to be writing a blog about our recent trip to Costa Rica where we zip-lined and white water rafted through the rain forest, laid on white sandy beaches, shopped at the street-markets and swam in the ocean...Brett and I had an amazing time. Our new and healthy life together is everything we dreamed it would be...Oh and I have the best job in the whole wide world, _________.

The countdown begins

My surgery is in exactly 17 days and I'm so excited I can hardly stand it.

I started my liquid diet today, something I've been dreading for months but now that today is here I'm pretty okay with it. I'm actually not supposed to start until Monday but I decided to start today. I gained five pounds over the past month (might have had something to do with Thanksgiving and/or my period- who knows) that I need to be sure to lose before the surgery so I figured I might as well get a head-start.

It's funny...I thought that I would totally freak out having to give up food during this time but instead I'm finding myself excited about it. For the first time in my life I feel not just hopeful that I will lose weight, but confident that it will happen. There have been countless times in my life that I've tried to diet but other than a few pounds at the beginning I've never had much success. The lack of success led to feeling like a failure which quickly led to giving up and feeling even more like a failure, especially since giving up meant gaining back the weight that I had lost plus more.

My body is a mess. I have been significantly overweight for as long as I can remember. When people (doctors included) ask me what my goal weight is I tell them I have no idea. It's true, I really don't. Based on BMI standards I should weigh between 105 and 135lbs. The problem is, I haven't weight 135 since I was 11 years old! Do you think you could ever weigh what you weighed in grade school?! NO! So the thought of having an "appropriate BMI" seems pretty fricken impossible.

When I think back to a time that I was a "healthy weight", when I was super active (and the same height I am now) I think about 1990, when I was almost 14 and weighed 165lbs. I was still "big", still the "fat kid" (compared to others my age), but I was doing gymnastics five days a week and probably in the best shape of my life. I still had a dimple of cellulite on my upper left thigh but I was otherwise pretty toned or as toned as I could be. (My mom would always tell me my butt was so hard!) So I've decided that my ultimate weight goal is 165lbs, I don't know if it's actually attainable- like I said, I was 14 years old the last time I weighed that much, but I'm definitely going to give it a try. However, instead of stressing myself out over a number on the scale, my main focus is fitness. There are so many things I want to be able to do, one of them is a Mud Run- a 3 mile obstacle course...IN THE MUD! There's one in May 2012 which I think would be AWESOME, but since I have no idea how much weight I will have lost by then or more importantly what kind of shape I'll be in, it might be a little far fetched. I think I'll know better come February whether or not that goal is reasonable. Is it February yet?!

I had a little melt down on Monday. I have been seeing a therapist in anticipation of the surgery as well as other issues I'm trying to work through (ADD for one) and she told me during our visit on Monday that if I was going to be successful at losing weight I was going to need to be regimented. Anyone who knows me, knows that regiment is a like four letter word in my book. It's probably what I need most in my life (especially for the ADD) but it's EXTREMELY difficult for me to fathom and even more so, to implement. Grr! So armed with this bit of information I came home feeling like I was going to fail. There was no doubt in my mind. I mean, I had already been worried about it. For the past several weeks I'd been worrying that I was going to fail, that I'd be the 3% (or whatever the number is) that the surgery doesn't work for and that'd be it. It'd be one more failed diet to add to my list of failures. I was feeling depressed and stressed to the max, then when she told me that I'd have to be regimented it was like one more nail in the failure-coffin. So I cried...a lot. Brett was such a trooper, he listened, tried to be reassuring and of course laughed at me a little because well, that's what he does. I laughed a little at myself too. I knew I was being ridiculous but I couldn't help it. There's a LOT of pressure involved with all of this. Expectations for something that there's no way of knowing what to expect. (I DO NOT LIKE NOT KNOWING WHAT TO EXPECT!)

I finally decided to call my friend Kayce who had the surgery last year and she was able to talk me down. She has had INSANE results that I had chalked up to being "luck" but when she told me how hard she's worked, how she's stuck to the diet and exercised regularly I realized "duh! I can do that too!" I hadn't realized just how dumb I was being about the whole situation. I mean, I KNEW that it was going to be "hard", that's what everyone tells you, but I just thought they meant it was going to be hard to eat (or not to eat), not that the process was going to be hard work! Yes, I know how dumb that sounds and no, I did not think that it was going to be easy, I just didn't...I don't know, I just thought it was going to come down to luck.

Anyway, something clicked and I'm feeling so much better. For whatever reason, I have a tendency to make things more difficult that they need to be. Like, I am almost literally the one who goes around my ass to get to my elbow with everything in life, but once something clicks I'm brilliant. So watch out! My brilliance is about to SHINE, BIG TIME!

As for being regimented, I'm not going to stress too much about that. It will be fine. I'll get my protein in everyday and limit my carbs everyday and I'll exercise (when I'm feeling better) and I will be successful!

The weight I lose today and the next day and the next day will be the last time I EVER see those pounds AGAIN! And that my friends is the best feeling in the world!