So, I haven't blogged since my last entry declaring to the world what my intentions were about my surgery. I've been rather out of commission due to some complications. The ironic thing is, I asked the doctor about what complications I could encounter during this process. He told me, "There is about a 2% chance of complications. However, when they happen to you, they become 100%." Well, isn't that deep? So, to cut to the chase, I had a 2% chance that has me currently 100% involved in a complication.
I should have known when my guts exploded during "phase one" of my process (Lap Band removal) that I was not going to be an easy case. Another sign was when I woke up from the "phase two" surgery (Gastric Sleeve procedure) there were no unicorns like before. I did not wake up saying, "I rode a unicorn!" This time, I was crying, "It hurts! It hurts! I'm so nauseous!" The nurses consoled me, from what I remembered from the fog, and said they were giving me more meds. Well, they did. They knocked my ass out for several more hours to shut me up. Who needs the one hysterical girl in the recovery room? No one, let's drug her up! Kind of off-topic, but I wish they would do that at work. Like, when I get out of hand, they just walk over and say, "Cassondra, take your medicine, don't argue, just do it..." and then they hand me a glass of water and a little pink pill. Then, a few minutes later, I'm all, "heeyyyyy, how you dooiinn?" I'm just saying, it would make things so much easier.
So, anyway, after sharing the recovery area with Boxer Guy and Puke Lady and doing our laps every couple of hours and letting our asses hang out as we went up and down the hallway, I thought, "this was hard, but it's going to get better each day from here on out." We are all belching, bleeding all over our gowns, asking for meds, sipping water and shuffling around in the socks given to us that have the cute traction stuff in the shape of little feet on the bottom so none of us busts our ass on the hard floor when we stumble from dizziness. It truly was a night to remember.
I went home the next day and followed doctors orders. I kept waiting for the unicorns to show up, but I fear they are dead this time as they have yet to make an appearance. I miss them, but I carried on. I was sipping my water, sipping my broth, sucking down sugar free Jello, I was doing all they asked me to do. On day four, post-op, I woke up with horrible pains in my shoulder. It isn't uncommon to get these pains after the surgery since they put air into your belly so they can do the surgery lapriscopically. I dealt with them all day and also fought off some nausea. The morning of day five and I was pretty miserable, so I emailed my doctor's medical assistant at approx. 6:00AM. By 6:35AM, I received a call from her. She wanted me to come in right away, she was worried about a leak. Holy batshit, Robin! This was my worst fear. This is serious. I mean, you can die from that!
I went to the doctor and they ran some tests and then sent me over to the hospital to have further tests done. As I am sitting there, no makeup, wearing sweats and my drain tubes hanging out, this woman in a wheel chair zones in on me and says, "God bless you and heal you honey, Merry Christmas...." I thanked her but wondered why she didn't say anything to anyone else. I'm thinking, crap, she knows I'm dying. She was sent by God and she is trying to comfort me in my final hours!!! Just then they called me back to the testing area. Turns out they were not really ready, so they sent me back out to the waiting room. I said to my sister, who was with me, "did you hear that lady, she blessed me...weird, huh?" My sister said, "yeah, after you left she started going on about how she had a Xanax and that she didn't know how to drive her wheel chair and started bumping in to people." Oh. I don't think God would send me a drunk driver, do you? Clearly not the sign I thought it was.
After spending a long day in the hospital and more time at the surgical center, I was informed that indeed, I did have a leak and that the way to treat it was to allow my body to heal and watch for infection. That meant that I needed to come back to the hospital the following day and have a pic line IV put in so I could be fed through my IV. I was advised I would not be taking ANYTHING in by mouth for the next 14 days. Not water, not gum, not food, not pills...nothing. I was devastated and scared. I looked at the doctor, tears streaming down my face (it was my best theatrical performance of the year, so far) and I said, "Dr. L, I don't want to die." He said, "Well, this is good, that means we are on the same page."
I'll skip over the multiple meltdowns (go ahead and ask Valerie how many times I cried on the phone with her), the IV installation, the severe reflux, nausea, stomach pain and the good folks at Walgreens coming and hooking me up to my IV and super cool backpack that I get to wear if I leave the house. Ok, so one thing about the backpack, I got this stupid ugly blue one. You'd think they would want to cheer people up. You know, maybe give me a choice of a Power Puff girl back back or Transformers or something. I mean, I'd prefer something with a unicorn, but hey, I get that not everyone is into unicorns.
So, I have to sleep downstairs on the couch sitting up because of the pain and the stupid IV bag. I take enough unicorn enhancing drugs to sleep a few hours and then take more in the middle of the night. Life is freaking grand. To top it all off, the special mix of IV nutrients they are giving me are such a high mix of nutrients and calories that I have gained two pounds this week! ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME???? I haven't eaten anything for over a week (two entire days went by where I really did not eat or drink anything) and now this. This is not okay. This is not, "let's blimp out the fat girl on calories!" They keep telling me that they have to keep my calories high and we will worry about weight loss later. Later? What? The one consolation I had was that at least I was going to lose some weight over the next 14 days and now even that has been taken from me. I mean, I don't really want to die, but I don't want to be an IV Fatty either. There is absolutely no justice in this situation. And to all those that have gone before me and had this surgery and had no problems and are dropping weight, I hate your guts. Traitors. Over-achievers.
Oh, yeah, and I know this was elective surgery, I would just like to have elected out of the complications. It's always going to be something with me. Always. This is why the pony is always angry.
Anyway, that is the update. I guess the only before and after pictures will be those of me skinnier BEFORE the IV and then fatter AFTER it. But, I'm not bitter..... Like hell I'm not.
I should have known when my guts exploded during "phase one" of my process (Lap Band removal) that I was not going to be an easy case. Another sign was when I woke up from the "phase two" surgery (Gastric Sleeve procedure) there were no unicorns like before. I did not wake up saying, "I rode a unicorn!" This time, I was crying, "It hurts! It hurts! I'm so nauseous!" The nurses consoled me, from what I remembered from the fog, and said they were giving me more meds. Well, they did. They knocked my ass out for several more hours to shut me up. Who needs the one hysterical girl in the recovery room? No one, let's drug her up! Kind of off-topic, but I wish they would do that at work. Like, when I get out of hand, they just walk over and say, "Cassondra, take your medicine, don't argue, just do it..." and then they hand me a glass of water and a little pink pill. Then, a few minutes later, I'm all, "heeyyyyy, how you dooiinn?" I'm just saying, it would make things so much easier.
So, anyway, after sharing the recovery area with Boxer Guy and Puke Lady and doing our laps every couple of hours and letting our asses hang out as we went up and down the hallway, I thought, "this was hard, but it's going to get better each day from here on out." We are all belching, bleeding all over our gowns, asking for meds, sipping water and shuffling around in the socks given to us that have the cute traction stuff in the shape of little feet on the bottom so none of us busts our ass on the hard floor when we stumble from dizziness. It truly was a night to remember.
I went home the next day and followed doctors orders. I kept waiting for the unicorns to show up, but I fear they are dead this time as they have yet to make an appearance. I miss them, but I carried on. I was sipping my water, sipping my broth, sucking down sugar free Jello, I was doing all they asked me to do. On day four, post-op, I woke up with horrible pains in my shoulder. It isn't uncommon to get these pains after the surgery since they put air into your belly so they can do the surgery lapriscopically. I dealt with them all day and also fought off some nausea. The morning of day five and I was pretty miserable, so I emailed my doctor's medical assistant at approx. 6:00AM. By 6:35AM, I received a call from her. She wanted me to come in right away, she was worried about a leak. Holy batshit, Robin! This was my worst fear. This is serious. I mean, you can die from that!
I went to the doctor and they ran some tests and then sent me over to the hospital to have further tests done. As I am sitting there, no makeup, wearing sweats and my drain tubes hanging out, this woman in a wheel chair zones in on me and says, "God bless you and heal you honey, Merry Christmas...." I thanked her but wondered why she didn't say anything to anyone else. I'm thinking, crap, she knows I'm dying. She was sent by God and she is trying to comfort me in my final hours!!! Just then they called me back to the testing area. Turns out they were not really ready, so they sent me back out to the waiting room. I said to my sister, who was with me, "did you hear that lady, she blessed me...weird, huh?" My sister said, "yeah, after you left she started going on about how she had a Xanax and that she didn't know how to drive her wheel chair and started bumping in to people." Oh. I don't think God would send me a drunk driver, do you? Clearly not the sign I thought it was.
After spending a long day in the hospital and more time at the surgical center, I was informed that indeed, I did have a leak and that the way to treat it was to allow my body to heal and watch for infection. That meant that I needed to come back to the hospital the following day and have a pic line IV put in so I could be fed through my IV. I was advised I would not be taking ANYTHING in by mouth for the next 14 days. Not water, not gum, not food, not pills...nothing. I was devastated and scared. I looked at the doctor, tears streaming down my face (it was my best theatrical performance of the year, so far) and I said, "Dr. L, I don't want to die." He said, "Well, this is good, that means we are on the same page."
I'll skip over the multiple meltdowns (go ahead and ask Valerie how many times I cried on the phone with her), the IV installation, the severe reflux, nausea, stomach pain and the good folks at Walgreens coming and hooking me up to my IV and super cool backpack that I get to wear if I leave the house. Ok, so one thing about the backpack, I got this stupid ugly blue one. You'd think they would want to cheer people up. You know, maybe give me a choice of a Power Puff girl back back or Transformers or something. I mean, I'd prefer something with a unicorn, but hey, I get that not everyone is into unicorns.
So, I have to sleep downstairs on the couch sitting up because of the pain and the stupid IV bag. I take enough unicorn enhancing drugs to sleep a few hours and then take more in the middle of the night. Life is freaking grand. To top it all off, the special mix of IV nutrients they are giving me are such a high mix of nutrients and calories that I have gained two pounds this week! ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME???? I haven't eaten anything for over a week (two entire days went by where I really did not eat or drink anything) and now this. This is not okay. This is not, "let's blimp out the fat girl on calories!" They keep telling me that they have to keep my calories high and we will worry about weight loss later. Later? What? The one consolation I had was that at least I was going to lose some weight over the next 14 days and now even that has been taken from me. I mean, I don't really want to die, but I don't want to be an IV Fatty either. There is absolutely no justice in this situation. And to all those that have gone before me and had this surgery and had no problems and are dropping weight, I hate your guts. Traitors. Over-achievers.
Oh, yeah, and I know this was elective surgery, I would just like to have elected out of the complications. It's always going to be something with me. Always. This is why the pony is always angry.
Anyway, that is the update. I guess the only before and after pictures will be those of me skinnier BEFORE the IV and then fatter AFTER it. But, I'm not bitter..... Like hell I'm not.
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