No Going Back Now…

grastric-sleeve

Monday, March 28th, 0530 hours. I received a call from Ashley (my fantastic eldest daughter) to let me know that she and her sister were running about 5 minutes late due to the evil weather and crappy drivers. They were determined to get to me and get me to my best chance at health and life ongoing. To make possible my dreams of hopping in a canoe tied to the back of the truck and paddling through a pond/lake or stream for the day. They made it and we packed me up and put me in the car (Where I would happily have sat in the back seat, but Ash would not hear of it) to take me to the hospital and my first real step on the journey.

As always, the doctors who came in did not always listen to what I said-glancing over every other word and my humour was, well, lost on them. Clarification was necessary, but hey, I had to wean off my meds for a few days, so I am a tad hyper-manic.  Procedure goes as normal-pop in an I.V., start a bag of fluids (a full 1000 ml before i even see the doctor to get me pumped full–healing works better if you float, you see.  I remember meeting the anesthetist and being told that he would have a helper and my doctor would have a student present, although the student didn’t get to help in the surgery. training only, no hands on.

I got my hugs from my kids (after the nurse chased them back in to see me for the hugs! (Yay nurses!!!) and said I would see them soon. i wheeled down to the next room, got my pretty blue hat on over my braid and bangs and got my shot of heparin, something for nausea and my first knock out drops. i remember starting my way toward the room and maybe (fuzzy) making it into the room, but after that–I woke up on the second floor in a hospital room with my kids chatting to each other and looking very happy when i talked to them. Because I couldn’t manage to stay awake, I chased them home to see their grandfather and let folks know how things were going. (and to all of you who sent your good wishes and love and prayers–thank you!)

My first night wasn’t too bad. I asked for pain meds and they hit me up with them, and I also had a pump to jack my own self up with delaudit. The doctor stopped in–he removed about 85% of my stomach. I was in a bit too much pain to ask if i could have the remainder to make a hat out of. Probably just as well, come to think of it. But it would serve as a reminder of why i deliberately hid myself in food to drown the pain of disease and abuse. I think I will just fashion a Valkyrie helmet out of tin foil instead–lighter and it will keep the “powers that be” from reading my mind, right??

Sleeping was difficult. I need to take a sleeping pill to do so out of the hospital, due to the PTSD and bi-polar diseases, but I had hoped with the pain pills and anti-emetics I would do all right. I did o—ka-a-a-y. i got choppy sleep but once i found a position to sleep in i was good until the pain meds wore off.  My next post will share my discovery of OH SHIT WHAT THE FUCK HAVE I DONE????? Let’s say pain hit full on, nausea clobbered me and I had to drink 150 cc of water. That sounds like a whole lot of nothing, but honey, if it weren’t for the fact that I want to have a life worth living, if I could have paid the dr. to put my over-large stomach back in–i surely would have. eeew. See you on the flip side.

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