I’m at home and recovering nicely. I’m a little sore, tired, very dizzy and VERY itchy from my meds. I’ve heard that morphine can sometimes make people itchy but I’ve never had that reaction. I’m not on morphine but on another pain med that is also derived from opium and it is making my entire body SO ITCHY. I’m trying to ignore it but it is very difficult! Plus, my shoulder just aches! I’ve heard that the gases used for the laprascopic surgery can settle in your right shoulder and really hurt. I think it was bothering me more than my stomach actually was!

My surgery went off with out a hitch and I am now gallbladder-less. I didn’t realize I was as nervous about the surgery as I was. It occurred to me that the only time I’d been put under since I was a kid was when I had a cyst burst and hemorrhage in to my abdomen. I was in so much pain and so drugged up that I didn’t even notice getting put out. The idea of consciously letting myself be put under, giving the doctor complete control over my life essentially, and not being available to Livi if she needed me scared me. Then, of course, I started remembering all the stories I’ve heard of things going wrong and people dying because of the anesthetic. I’m not a wimp, but I think since becoming a mom I have opened myself up to being a lot more vulnerable. My emotions are much closer to the surface. I think I did okay keeping my anxiety in check, although it took a lot of positive self-talk at times.

My pre-op nurse was great! I was very impressed with her ability to put in my IV. I have never had anyone able to put an IV in to me with only one try, but she did! And, no bruise! Generally, my veins don’t come up high enough or they roll. Basically, it is just a big painful nightmare for me. Needless to say, I was very happy with her ability. My surgery was an hour and a half later than I had been told, but Jon and the old guy sitting next to me kept me entertained and my mind off the anxiety.

I think the worst part of it all was consciously going in to the operating room. I had to say goodbye to Jon in the waiting room and walk down a long hall, only to be met by a freezing cold operating room. My surgical nurse did a great job at trying to keep me calm, although he had to leave me once he had me settled and at this point I was starting to freak out a bit. No one was looking at me. No one was acknowledging that I was even there. They just went about their business, getting the room ready, while I lay there, with my arms stretched out, staring up at the ceiling and big bowls that would be lights, trying to stop crying, wanting to scream at the nurses to talk to me or get up and run home to my baby! I was very thankful for my doctor at that moment though. I don’t think he has much bedside manner. He is a specialist after all. But, he came over to me, smiled and kept eye contact, put his hand on my arm and helped the anesthesiologist with my oxygen. I was very thankful. He kept eye contact with me until I fell asleep, even after the nurse came and took over for him.

The next thing I knew I was waking up in recovery. My throat hurt, but they wouldn’t let me have water. I wanted to see Jon. Of course they wouldn’t let me yet. I again started crying. The post-op nurse was not nearly as nice as the pre-op one. She didn’t come over to comfort me. She just told me I’d see my husband in an hour or so. When you are crying, feeling like you’ve just been hit by a bus, and waking up from anesthetic, you don’t want to have to hear you have to wait an entire hour! I didn’t hit it off great with my next nurse either. This time I think it was partly my fault though. Jon wasn’t in the next recovery room I was moved to either and no one had called him yet. I got a little demanding. She insisted on checking me in before she called him and I didn’t like that much. To make matters worse Jon didn’t answer his phone when she finally did pick up the phone! I got a little upset 😦 He showed up pretty quickly but not until after I made the nurse try two other numbers.

I recovered quite quickly. The nurses were actually quite surprised. Since we had taken two separate cars in the morning, because Jon had to wait for my mom to get there to watch Livi, Jon took one of the cars back home and was going to come back with my mom and Livi. I was alone for about half an hour and decided I had to use the bathroom. Since the nurse, that may or may not have been annoyed with me at the time, had not left me with a beeper to page the nurses for help, I did it myself. I reached down and got my pants on, crawled off the edge of the bed because I didn’t know how to get the rails down and started walking to the bathroom. All the nurses in close vicinity were looking at me and asking if I was okay, watching me closely. They checked on me twice while I was in the washroom and I wasn’t in there for very long. Then they walked back to my bed with me. I kind of laughed and said “What? Are people not usually up this early?” She shook her head, wide eyed and said “No, this is rather early.” She then made sure I had the buzzer close at hand.

I feel sorry for the workers and family members who are going to have to put up with me when I get old. I am more like my Grandfather than I realized. It didn’t really even cross my mind to call for help from a nurse to go to the washroom. When I was getting checked out, I tried insisting that I was fine to go to the movie store with Jon. I only backed down when I realized how much I was frustrating him. I wasn’t trying to be difficult. I just didn’t know what the big deal was. I felt “fine.” Darn my Mennonite genes!

Livi came to visit with my mom to help get me home. She just stared and stared at me, seemingly on the verge of crying. I had oxygen on me because my levels were a little low. I think that scared her a little bit. I took it off right away and acted really excited for her to see all the “neat” things attached to me. Like my IV and “owie” on my belly button. When she saw my belly button she relaxed and started playing. She really liked getting rides on the wheelchair 🙂

Since being home I’ve been sleeping a lot. I underestimated how tired I’d be. My pain level is being kept very low but I have no energy. I’m quite dizzy and dopey too. I’ve had a lot of help since I’ve been home though. My sister came over to help with Livi all day yesterday and my friend brought her son over to play with Livi this morning and my mom came back this afternoon to take over. They have been invaluable to me. I’m not allowed to pick up Livi for a while yet and definitely do not have the energy to chase after her. It is hard not being able to pick her up but I think we are coping okay. I can hold her on my left side, so I’ve been giving her her bottles when I’m awake and my helpers have been good at keeping her distracted from me.

Thanks so much for everyone prayers for a safe surgery and an extra special thanks to those of you who have come over, or will be coming over, in this first week to help out with Livi. With Jon’s new job he couldn’t really take time off work to stay home with me. I don’t know what I would have done with out you guys!

So, I’ve fully embraced my new healthier lifestyle and am actually finding it easier than I thought I would. I went to the gym three times last week and finding that I am almost loving it! I like how I feel after I’ve reached my goal for the day. The adrenaline that I feel still pumping through me when I’m showering afterward is so empowering. I know what all those athletic people are talking about now!

The meal plan isn’t as bad as I was expecting either… it isn’t quite as good as I was hoping though. I guess that is because it is lacking all the sugar and trans fats that I am used to. I’m not buying their food or anything like that. I’m following recipes and portions from a daily menu of normal food I buy at the grocery store that is specific to my likes and dislikes. It is teaching me what and how much I should be eating. I have room to enjoy eating out and to have the occasional treat, but hopefully I can have the control to watch my portions and go crazy with the treats. It is teaching me to read the nutritional charts and be aware of how many calories I’m eating.

I think the most surprising part of what I am doing is how much food they are wanting me to eat! It will be less as I lose body fat but right now they have me eating nearly 400 calories five times a day! I’m used to three bigger meals and a smaller snack or two. I’m having trouble finishing everything they are giving me. I guess it is to keep my metabolism going and keep me full between meals, but I’m sometimes still full at meal times! I guess that’s what happens when you eat the proper food.

I’ve thought a bit more about my specific goal in this new endeavour. Jon and I are planning to take a vacation in October or November, assuming no major life events disrupt those plans. So, my goal is to lose 50 pounds by then. They say a healthy weight loss is done at about one to two pounds a week. I figure there is a little over forty weeks between now and our vacation. I also figure that my meal plan and excersise regime will be a little shot for the next few weeks since I am having my gallbladder removed on Wednesday and I won’t be allowed to excersise as hard as I have been or eat properly. So, 50lbs in 40 weeks is doable right? My first weigh in is on the 28th… it will be every two weeks after that. I just thought with my surgery I would give it an extra week to get back to excersising before my first weigh in. I’ll keep you posted!

Overall, I am a very confident person. Not a lot of things faze me or make me falter. I do have one weakness though. I rarely talk about it but I do not have a good body image. I’ve been on the larger side of the scale as long as I can remember. Food was how I coped with all the stress in my life as a child. Food was what I could control in a chaotic surrounding.

I have never broken this habit of using food to cope with things. I never had the motivation. When I was a teenager and the 200lb mark was approaching, I just tried to put it out of my mind. I didn’t think about it and continued telling myself that if I wanted to eat a bag of chips or a few cookies it wouldn’t hurt me… after all, I deserved a little treat after a stressful day.

In recent years I’ve gone through ups and downs with my wieght but I have been approaching the 300lb mark. At my last weigh in, I found out that I’ve reached it. This is very scary for me to say and to write about. I have been denying the problem in me head for nearly twenty years. Giving words to it makes it real. It makes it something that I have to face. I remember thinking that I would never reach this moment. That people who were 300lbs looked REALLY fat and didn’t care about themselves. I don’t look at myself long enough in the mirror to judge whether I look fat or not. I do care about myself, but have been able to justify everything in my mind.

My gallstones are partly a genetic thing but also a symptom of my poor diet. When they did the ultrasound to diagnose my gallstones, the doctor found some fat deposits on my liver. This is completely reversable, because I am still young, but if I continue down the path I am going there will be irreversible damage and an early death. I don’t want to leave my children, or grandchildren early. I want to have enough energy to play as long and as hard as Livi wants to. I want to feel confident in my own skin and believe that I can participate in anything I want to.

Well, I don’t generally make new year resolutions. They are always half-assed and get broken. I am changing my life style. I have joined a gym. She’s Fit it is called and I am really happy with them so far. I did my first work out tonight and actually had fun! The staff are awesome and I saw what they were promising from themselves be put in to action. I have signed up for a monitored meal plan. I went and did all the grocery shopping for it tonight to. The food sounds great and uses real ingredients, not portioned microwave meals like other plans. I have commited to changing, getting healthy, and getting fit. I want to lose inches as well as pounds. I don’t know what a realistic goal is but I’m going to say if I can loose 100lbs in a year I will be VERY proud of myself! Wish me luck and help keep me accountable! Join me at the gym 🙂