About a Week After the Surgery

12/21/03 – Just gained enough energy now to actually get online. I still haven’t posted my pictures, but I will. This was a tough thing, this surgery. I really didn’t understand how tough it was going to be. Although I don’t regret it and wouldn’t undo it… if you’d have asked me a couple of days ago I would have. I didn’t really have any complications per se, but my oxygen and hemoglobin went low. I had to have a blood transfusion before coming home. The whole thing has just taken alot out of me.

I don’t know that it was particularly tough on me compared to anybody else although the surgeon told the nurse that I am a tiny woman… (unfortunately not externally), but my internal organs and my frame are very small apparently and that made it a little tough for him. I’m glad I had a surgeon who has done teens before. I’m just hoping that now, after a time, the outside of me will match the inside of me.

I’m having a little depression since I went off my anti-depressants for a few days. Also, the bariatric educator said that since we, post-ops, aren’t getting our usual dosage of endorphin producing breads and sweets, etc. that will be manifested in our mood and attitude. The best cure for that, she said, was to excersize. I’ve been trying to do whatever I can, mostly walking around here or gently using my step board.

I’m writing down everything I eat to try to keep track of protein and calorie consumption. I’m unable, as yet, to fully understand the communications that my pouch is sending me although I finally figured out I needed to drastically slow down my eating speed. This is just a whole new complicated experience for me.

I guess I’m glad I did it but I don’t know if I’d have the courage if I had really known how tough it is. The problem is, however, what else could I have done? The weight wasn’t coming off, the food was in control of me and I was gaining more pounds every year. I just don’t believe there was any other way out of that. The ultimate choice, then, would have been, do I have the courage to do the surgery or do I just continue down the predictable course of getting fatter and fatter until I had severe health problems and finally faced an early death? Was I to continue my sadness and self-derision because of this? It seems like there were only two courses of action and I took the better, Godlier, healther, but HONESTLY MUCH HARDER of the two choices. I’m so glad it’s over now and that I just have to work on re-gaining my strength and learning how to use this new “tool” I’ve got. I’m mot the most patient person in the world, but I’m going to have to learn a lot of things as I progress here.