Still Alive

The surgery went really well. I know it sounds ridiculous, but I was so relieved when they woke me up after the surgery. I think that was my biggest fear - not waking up. They must have given me some pretty powerful sedatives before rolling me into the operating room, because I felt like a complete zombie. Of course, the fact that I didn't have my glasses or contacts aided creating a more fuzzy scene. The doctors were so nice and so was the anesthesiologist.

The hospital stay was short - I was out in 36 hours. But some of that 36 hours was really miserable considering I had a nightmarish roommate. I mean, she was REALLY miserable. The nurses were worried that I wasn't getting enough liquids, so they hooked me up to another IV and turned the drip on extra fast. Pretty soon, I was starting to look like the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man and my hand was three times the size it should've been. So I decided it was time to call the nurse, but I dropped my call button. So I asked my lovely roomie if she would push hers for me since I couldn't move. She practically yelled at me that she couldn't find hers. Luckily, the nurses popped in every hour, so I didn't have to wait too long. But it was just the principle. She was SO RUDE!

The next day, I was using my little breathing machine and walking as much as I could. Meanwhile, the ray-of-sunshine roommate sulked in bed and did nothing. When her doctor came in, she complained that she couldn't breathe (not once did she do any breathing exercises we were supposed to, nor did she walk). The doctor asked if she was following all the directions they gave her, which she of course lied about and said that she was. They decided to keep her an extra day and I was on my merry way.

Not being able to eat hasn't bothered me nearly as much as I thought it would. The worst part about the surgery was the pain from all the gas they pumped in. It bothered me more than the incisions. In all, it took about a week for that uncomfortable feeling to pass. I had gained about 30 lbs being in the hospital, which was very discouraging to me. But that 30 lbs went away just as quickly as it came. I'm now 20 lbs down from when I first went into the hospital. But I have noticed the past 2 days have been pretty much the same. Though I'm told this is to be expected since I'm not really eating anything. Hopefully, the weight loss will start again soon.

Scared/Nervous/EXCITED!

My surgery is just hours away. Luckily, I'm the first one to go in the morning. I'm glad about it because by this time tomorrow, it will all be over and I will be recuperating. My nervousness and anxiousness is melting away more and more and turning to excitement. Something tells me I won't be getting much shut eye tonight..... but that will change when I get the anesthesia in the morning! Hee hee!

A Letter To Myself

Dear Me,

This surgery has been a long time coming, and as scary as it may be, I know what has to be done. Gone are the days of worrying if I will fit in a chair, break a seat, a bed, or any other kind of furniture. I will not dread going out with my friends/family because I have to sit in the backseat with two other people. The next time I go to an amusement park, I will be able to ride the coasters. Walking a few miles won't seem quite as difficult, and taking the stairs won't seem quite as daunting. I won't cringe everytime I step on a scale. If you see me shopping at Dots, I will be at the regular side. Going to the gym will be a hobby instead of a dreadful inconvenience. And when I sit down, I will cross my legs because I will be a LADY instead of the ogre I feel like now.

These past years I have been slowly killing myself and those days are done. From now on, I will love and respect myself and my body. I will be conscious of what I put into it. And while I know I can't be perfect, I will pick myself back up as soon as I fall off the wagon. I am not going to put myself through this surgery only to fail afterward. I will beat this. I have to.

The love and support combined with this operation are the best tools I can ask for. This is a new chance for me - a new life. And I know from this moment, nothing will ever be the same... But somehow, I know that's a good thing.

<3 J

The Start of a New Beginning

After much thought and consideration, I have made a life-changing decision that will affect me for the rest of my days. This is not a decision I came to lightly and I have thought about any possible alternatives only to come to the realization that this would, in fact, be the best and most effective way for me to get what I ultimately want.

In exactly 8 days, I will be having gastric bypass surgery.

How Did I Get Here?
For the most part, I think it was depression. I hate to use my mother's death as a crutch, but the fact remains that it has ultimately been the largest factor in what brought me to this point. After she died, I cared a little less about others and also myself. At 14 years old, the world just never seemed the same. She was my best friend and then she was gone. I shoved my sadness down with cookies, candy, cake, ice cream, anything sweet I could find. At mealtimes I usually ate enough for at least two. Sometimes I hid snacks under my bed. I didn't think or care about the consequences of my eating habits - I ate what I wanted when I wanted it. Once in a while I would try a diet or exercise program and lose some weight only to gain it back and then some. After I while, I felt there was no longer any point trying and knew I would be this way for the rest of my life.

Why I Chose This...
People may think they know and understand the inner workings of your life, how you feel, how to change, etc. But the only person who really knows you is you. I'd like to think I know me, and with that in mind I know I have always been (at least up to this point) an emotional eater. What does this mean? It means when I'm sad, I eat. When I'm happy, I eat. Whenever there is a family get together, a holiday, a celebration... what do I do??? I eat. Heck, at one point I used to eat just because I had nothing better to do. All of this is about to come to an abrupt halt.

Luckily for me, weight is pretty much the only significant health problem I have. But I don't want to come to a point where things are much worse because of this issue. Having a family history like mine is enough of a risk. Why should I risk it further? My mother died from breast cancer, my one grandfather from lung cancer; the other from diabetes, and two of my grandmothers had/have heart disease. That coupled with my obesity is nothing short of a recipe for disaster and an early death. About a year ago, I decided that an early death was not something I wanted.


Where I've Been...
As of this past December, I was at my heaviest, weighing in around 340 lbs. That was about the time I made the decision to go ahead with the surgery. I pulled out all the stops, went to information sessions, read numerous books, and googled my little heart out. My step-mother works for Lehigh Valley Hospital and just from talking to her, I knew they were a good place. And after talking with co-workers, I had a name of a surgeon many seemed to trust.

I was disappointed after learning that I couldn't just schedule the surgery and that a rigorous 6-month pre-operation program was in order. In the end, though, I'm very thankful this was a requirement regardless of the fact that it seemed like an eternity. Starting in January 2009, I went to two-hour classes each month where I got to speak with a dietician, a psychologist, nurses, doctors, and even a personal trainer where they stuffed my head full of so much information that sometimes I felt like I was on overload. But to me, that was a good thing. I'm forever asking a million questions and they cut me to the quick by answering most of them before I even had a chance. The end of May, I had my one-on-one meeting with the surgeon and he explained the ins and outs of gastric bypass. When my program was up June 9th, I quickly got a call from my insurance company approving me for the surgery, which was then scheduled for July 30th.

During the 6 month pre-op program, I went to support group meetings. My brain was like a sponge trying to take in as much as I could. One of the meetings was what they called a panel discussion where they had people who had been through the surgery talk about their experiences. As I saw one girl, Stephanie, walk to the podium, I thought to myself, wow, she must have had the surgery done a while ago (she looked incredible!). As it turned out, she was only 8 months out of the surgery and 140 lbs down! I couldn't believe my ears. She looked lovely. Before her surgery, she weighed 280 lbs and now she was down to a size 8. Stephanie is my inspiration. She was the same age that I am now when she had her surgery. I decided if she can do it, so can I. I also learned how to eat in moderation. I also put myself on a strict schedule, making sure I ate at the same time each day. I joined a local gym. That was rough... For the first few weeks, I was lucky if I was able to do 10 minutes on an eliptical machine. And OHHHHH how I dreaded it!

But somehow along the way, I lost 55 lbs and started feeling better. I felt happier at work and when I was out with my friends. Going to the gym didn't seem as bad anymore. This was enough to tell me that I was headed in the right direction. Even though I only made a dent, I know that things will only get better when the rest of the extra weight comes off.

My Support
Everyday, I thank God for my parents. They are the most important part of my life and I feel so terrible for making them worry. It was my step-mother who brought up the idea to me. An idea, my doctor tells me, that will add 10-15 years onto my life. What a gift! My brother, step-brother, and step-sister are also endlessly supportive. I really am a lucky girl.

And I can't forget my friends who have listened to me hours on end contemplating the risks, the positives, the what-ifs.... and, of course, my hysterics whenever I go into panic mode. Even though I feel it's been a tough journey, I can't imagine it without my family and friends.

My Hopes and Fears
I hope that I can be healthy and thinner and pretty... but I'm afraid I'll die on the operating table. Or even worse, that I'll die a slow and painful death because of the aftereffects of the surgery. I'm told this is common and I keep trying to convince myself everything will be okay. And of course, everyone else is, too. I appreciate everyone being so kind and reassuring, but I doubt much will take away the fear until this is all said and done.

I get offended when people assume this surgery is about looks. Do I want to be pretty? Sure.... who doesn't? But is that the main reason for my going through all of this? NO WAY! My health is my number one priority. I would like to get married and start a family one day, and I think I'd like to be around a while for that.

I won't let the fear of the surgery eclipse my going through with it. But it certainly doesn't stop me from freaking out in the meantime. I can only hope and pray for the best. When you come to the edge of all the light you know and are about to step into the darkness of the unknown, faith is knowing that one of two things will happen: there will be solid ground to stand on, or you will be taught to fly.