February 25, 2010

Early morning (really early!)

Not much sleep last night – too many nerves and last minute jitters.  What if I am not doing the right thing? What if something terrible happens and I leave my kids without a mother? What if I’m one of those oddball people for whom the surgery doesn’t work? What if…. What if… What if…

I just about what-iffed myself to death last night.

But now it is here. The day I have been hoping for and wishing for. The day my life begins again. The day I get a second chance.

Our neighbor and good friend comes over to stay with the girls until time for school. SuperMan and I bundle into the car and head out to the hospital.

I’m excited.

I’m terrified.

I can’t wait for it to be over.

We arrive and they quickly whisk us back to a “holding cell” (so to speak) and instruct me to put that lovely hospital gown on and climb into bed. 

“Okay,” I think to myself, “let’s get this show on the road.”

The nurse comes back in, verifies that I am who I say I am, and offers a little something to “take the edge off.” Yeah, I’m all about that. Give me the meds, baby.

A few minutes later and I’m comfortably reclining on my hospital gurney, waiting to be taken back to surgery.  The meds may have “taken off the edge” but they have a long way to go to stop the butterflies in my stomach. I wonder if they will fly out when they cut into me?

Finally, they come to take me back to surgery. I have talked with the anesthetist and they reassure me they will give me plenty of meds to make sure I don’t get sick after surgery – anesthesia and I are most definitely not good friends – they don’t want me throwing up any more than I do.

The nurses in the surgery theater are in high spirits and cheerfully welcome me.  The anesthetist puts the mask on me and asks me to count from 10 to 1 backwards. I’m not sure I got past 8…

I wake up in Recovery with some persistent nurse patting me on the shoulder telling me it is time to wake up.  “Really?” I think. I’m not at all interested in waking. I’m sore, I’m nauseous and… urp… well, so much for not puking.

The nurse gives me something in my IV and I’m out again.  I think it was something for the nausea as I hear her later talking to the doctor on the phone telling him that she has maxed me out on Phenergan and I’m still throwing up and what would he like her to do?  The only upside to the Phenergan is that it makes me sleep, sleep, sleep.

So, I’m in recovery for a while…

Finally, they move me to a room. I don’t remember much about the rest of the day. I was in and out of it – thanks to the Phenergan and the pain meds they kept giving me. I know SuperMan was there, reading and sleeping. And I remember the nurses kept waking me up and making me drink sips of water.

But it was done. I was on the way.

SuperMan brings the girls by for a visit – they are anxious to see their mommy and know that she is going to be okay.  They want to climb in the bed with me, but I am terrified of anyone touching my tender tummy, so we settle for hugs from the side of the bed.

Later that night, when the meds start to wear off enough that I can actually get my brain cells to function, this really sweet grandma-type nurse makes me get out of bed and WALK (can you believe her!?!) around the floor for a while.  I am pretty groggy but I make it a couple of laps.

I am rewarded with some Jell-O and Crystal Light.

Day 2 dawns with more Jell-O, Crystal Light and some broth.  I’m surprised at how much better I feel – especially because I’m not puking anymore. I’m a little sore, but not as bad as I expected I’d be. I manage to make several trips around the floor and watch some TV in between visits from the nurses.

My surgeon’s partner comes to visit me and tells me I did great in surgery.  He suggests releasing me and I ask if it is possible to stay one more night. I’m nervous about going home with my little monkeys and feel vulnerable to their loving attention. He agrees and I settle in for the night.

Day 3 I wake and am READY to go home. I miss my family and I’m ready to get out of the hospital and move on with the recovery.  SuperMan and the girls come to get me and we are on our way home.

It’s time to get on with the rest of my life.

next installment – Recovery

This is part four of my weight loss surgery story. I thought I’d continue the story for those of you who are curious about the rest of my journey leading up to the actual surgery.

If you haven’t read parts 1, 2, or 3 you can click on the links to catch up.

So, I left off with the interaction with the surgeon’s office that made my blood boil. What was I going to do? I was wondering if maybe this was a sign that I shouldn’t be pursuing the surgery at all.

Thankfully, I have some great friends who encouraged me to not give up after the first try and find another surgeon.  And, I’m lucky enough to know someone in the same city as me who had recently had surgery and loved her surgeon.

So, I quickly booked an appointment with his office.  It was like night and day. The staff was very friendly and welcoming. They didn’t make me feel like I was an idiot. They answered my questions (and then some) and gave me plenty of information to help me make decisions.

Dr. Williams was the antithesis of the other surgeon. He was soft-spoken, kind and considerate.  He asked me questions to be certain I knew what I was getting myself into but I never felt uncomfortable.  He answered my questions and told me what my next steps were – which were few because I’d done a lot of my homework with the insurance company and I was prepared with the information they needed.

Fortunately, I have an insurance plan that covers obesity-related surgeries and the requirements are tied to BMI (body/mass index) and co-morbidities.  Some insurance plans (such as mine) require a certain BMI (i.e. 40 and higher) to qualify for weight loss surgery, or a lower BMI with co-morbidities (such as diabetes, sleep apnea, asthma, etc.) 

If you are considering having weight-loss surgery, you should check with your insurance company to see what their requirements are and what they cover before you spend any time (and money) seeing a surgeon. Many insurance companies require other things – such as counseling, nutritional coaching, x-number of months of physician-supervised weight loss attempts, etc. It’s good to have all the details straight from your provider before you even visit a doctor. Then, you are prepared and can tell them what you need them to do to help you achieve the goals you have.

For me, I had both a high BMI (over 40) and co-morbidities, so my qualification was very quick and painless.  The surgeon’s office handled all the paperwork and I had already gotten a letter from my primary care physician which stated his recommendation for the surgery. This was not required, but I think it helped move things along.

So, then I was prepared to wait – wait until all of the paperwork was through and I could be scheduled by the surgeon’s team.

Imagine my surprise when I received a call the weekend of Big Girl’s birthday (less than a week after my initial visit to Dr. Williams’ office)

His scheduler informed me that they had an opening the following Thursday and was I ready to get scheduled for surgery?

After picking myself up off the ground – was this really happening!?! – I asked if there was any way we could push things out at least a week so that I could make plans for my children and work obligations.  Before I hung up the phone, I had my surgery date – February 25, 2010.

Exactly two weeks away.

Well, it was now or never. The wheels were in motion and I was on my way.

Next installment – Surgery Day.