My Journey

The New Journey: What is it? How'd you get on it? What are you traveling in? Is there beer in the trunk?

2013-10-30T16:40:00.001-07:00

So what exactly is this new journey all about? Well, let me repeat the last few sentences from my last blog entry, "It took me going to my son's birthday party at the roller rink for the light to turn on for me. That was my 'AH-HA!' moment. I thought I'd get up on skates (because in the 80's I'd been taking competition skating lessons) and it would be like the old days. Instead, I found I could barely hold myself UP on skates. That truly told me the condition my body was in".

Ok, so yeah, maybe my expectations were a LITTLE unrealistic but, c'mon, I was down from 260# to 222#- that's something, yeah? And I felt like I could do it. I was so, so, so very wrong. I watched my sister-in-law (who was far more fit than me at that point) skate around a smidge unbalanced but for the most part doing really well. I watched my husband (very physically fit) roll around a little unbalanced but doing very well too. Then there was me...it reminded me of the first time I got up on wakeboard: like sliding in plastic shoes across ice- no traction, no control. I began to wonder, "How the HELL did I ever control these things back then?" That's when it began to set in, "Because, dumb ass, you were 12, you were fit as fit could be! You rode your bike everywhere, when you didn't ride, you walked or skateboarded. You roller skated almost everyday." So says I to myself, "Then you mean I have to get strength and endurance training? I actually have to get in SHAPE before I can do this?" So responded myself to I, "Uh, yeah, hasn't Brian been telling you that for years? Didn't the Doctors tell you that before you got that band put in." And so began my scheming to get this flabby, fatty, cellulite-ridden, out-of-shape body tuned up. I decided then and there that I would start walking, seriously not just leisurely, and progress from there.

That Monday once the hubs and kids were off to school I grabbed our great dane and we began our walking cycle. It was difficult and I was sure to log the mileage we covered on my social network page so that as I began to lose weight and tone up, I could see what it was I'd done to get there. Miss Dolly (the great dane) was not always thrilled with the amount of ground we covered (we'd eventually worked up to 8 miles) but I was determined. I eventually began to alternate walking with stationary bike riding as it had some pretty difficult programs and I worked up to 8-10 miles on it as well. I dropped to 209# and was feeling good; I was feeling good about myself, what I was doing, the weight I was losing, and the energy I had. Things were good. Till one day I was on my social network page and a friend posted something about her bootcamp and how she liked it and yadda yadda yadda. She had some free passes for a couple weeks if anyone wanted to try it out. I remembered then that a couple of my other friends did bootcamp for a month and I had seen a literal night and day difference in both their appearances after a month. So, I asked a few pertinent questions; the main question being, "they don't come and bark orders in your ear do they?" I'd done a paramilitary academy once before and, not only was I not interested in doing it again, I was kind of to a point in my life where if someone tried to bark orders in my ear, I'd likely knock a bitch out. That was that. She promised me they didn't do that, so I went.

.....and allow me to close this entry with this....sadly, there is no beer involved.

Major Band Incident #2

2013-10-30T16:04:00.000-07:00

After about a bit of time of rest from the previous incident, I returned to Doc O fatter than ever (I hadn't gained all my weight back but, man, did I feel like I had) and we began (again) down our lapband-relationship-road....he'd fill it to where he felt it should be, I'd go away for a month or so and be back telling him, "More fluid! More fluid!" He'd always reluctantly but loyally oblige me, but not without being sure I understood why he felt it was too much.

It was no time at all before I was filled to 6cc's (supposedly the 'norm' for most females) and not much time before I got food stuck again, found myself dehydrated (AGAIN!) and back in the hospital (AGAIN!) having fluid aspirated.

And so the cycle began again....

Back in to see him and over a period of a couple of months, I eventually ended up where I am now: 5cc's. I figured that'd be good, not too much, not too little. I remembered the time before I was at 5cc's when I couldn't wait to get in to see him again to get more fluid because I was able to eat a ton of food. So, I completely expected to be in his office again before too long having more fluid put in. After a couple of months though, I simply found myself struggling to comfortably eat anything. Everything sat on the top of the band regardless of how tiny my bites were or how much time passed between them. I'd only had food stuck and vomited once but it was during this stint I came to the heartbreaking realization that alcohol and the band DO NOT go hand in hand, for me anyways. I'd had a very small glass of wine on Thursday, a 16oz glass of Red Drank (red fruit juice with vodka) on Friday and Saturday. By Sunday, I could barely get hot liquids down so the misery began again.

I recently had a friend ask me if, knowing what I know now, I'd get the lapband again. I found it to be a very interesting, contemplative question. I'd love to go the easy route and say no and that I'd never do it again after everything I've been through, but I have to be honest. In order to reach the different mind-set I'm in now, I HAD to endure all of this. It has been a journey and it's a journey I had to take to get here. Do I still have fluid in? Yes, I am still at 5cc's and will be seeing Doc O in the next few days to remove some fluid. Will I ever have all of my fluid removed? I really can't answer that right now, I'd like to be able to say yes but I really just don't know right now. I'm on a new journey now, a good one, a healthier, happier, more energetic one. It has been the previous journey that has helped me come to the realization that exercise is the ONLY way I will get to my goal weight of 160#...and if my blog does ANYTHING for anyone out there considering or who has the band, I hope it helps you to realize the seriousness of a COMPLETE change of lifestyle. It isn't just about limiting the amount you eat, it's about changing WHAT you eat, the AMOUNT you eat, HOW you eat it, WHY you came to be so dependent on food to fill WHICH void, DO YOU WANT TO DIE looking the way you do, being in the CONDITION you're in? DO you want people discussing your death afterward and saying, "It probably had alot to do with his/her weight" or "It's probably because of the crap he/she always ate"? I don't. It took me going to my son's birthday party at the roller rink for the light to turn on for me. That was my "AH-HA!" moment. I thought I'd get up on skates (because in the 80's I was taking competition lessons) and it would be like old days. Instead, I found I could barely hold myself UP on the skates. That truly told me the condition my body was in.

Major Band Incident #1

2013-10-30T15:26:00.001-07:00

I was completely shocked when I came back and noticed I hadn't had a new entry to this blog for OVER TWO YEARS!!! Wow! Lazy girl! Ha ha! So much has happened in these past two years and I could go on for days but I will just hit on a few of the more pertinent happenings.

First, my band has been so tight, it has actually been filled to 9cc's (my band holds 10). This was a fun time. I actually got down to 188 pounds but it was because all I could consume was soup (very, very slowly) water, basically all liquids.

One weekend we decided to go camping......

So picture this: beautifully pristine, SILENT desert surroundings, warm weather, weight loss to the point that I'm ready, willing and able to go hiking. Hell yeah! Give me a hand full of those chips! My band has been doing good- if I have some chips...no harm, no foul! WRONG!!!! Those things got stuck and when they did, I found myself laying on the bed with excruciating pain like I've never felt before. The pain shot through the front of my chest so badly it was hard to know if it was band pain or a heart attack. It jutted up my neck and throat are and into my jaw and also resonated out of the left side of my back bouncing between my shoulder blade and spine. It was terrible. It wasn't long before I was in the bathroom vomiting simply in an effort to get some kind of relief from the pain. Vomiting did provide some immediate relief but in the long run, it really just aggravated the band site to the point that I couldn't even swallow my own saliva. So, there I was: swallow, then a few minutes later up it comes...swallow saliva, a few minutes later up it comes, and so on. This went on for 24 hours- it even woke me up every ten minutes or so throughout the night to vomit and it was during this time in the evening I came to realize I was now vomiting bile.

To everyone's dismay (including my own) we had to leave our camping trip to get me to the hospital to have the fluid removed immediately. I was severely dehydrated, cracked lips, weak, loopy in the head, it was not pretty. Once we arrived at the hospital I was informed my Dr. wasn't coming- that the staff at this hospital had been personally trained by my Doc on this procedure and were perfectly capable. I was a tad nervous but the pain overtook my nervousness, I even had to sit on the bed with a bucket because my body was continuing to purge every drop of saliva and bile it could muster. You all might think I'm crazy but it was at this time I found myself terribly sympathetic to those with eating disorders who can't keep food down because it comes right back up. I doubt they have the exact pain I was suffering from, but not being able to keep anything down is NOT a good feeling.

A Doctor in his mid to upper 40's introduced himself to me and began to tell me how he'd never done an aspiration before and am I sure I'm ok with him doing it. I told him he didn't have to if he was unsure, that he could just bring me the needle and I could do it myself. That may sound funny, but I wasn't being an ass, I was completely serious and he could tell that. I could tell he was terribly nervous about it. I took his hand and put it on my belly where my port is located and I told him, "You feel that? That's the port. Now give me your finger and I'll show you where the center is." I placed his finger dead center and told him, "Now, when you have the needle placed directly perpendicular to the center of the port, I will lift my head, tightening my abdominal muscles and the port will stabilize and come closer to the surface. Just stab the needle straight in, not at an angle, and you'll be good to go." He still seemed rather uneasy but I told him it would be ok and told him I trusted him (and I did)- that it only seemed difficult. He centered the needle and I lifted my head. He said, "Are you ready?" I responded, "Yeah, it's ok, this really doesn't hurt. With a little bit of force, push that needle in." He did so and immediately the plunger began to back out and the syringe filled with fluid. He had a beautiful smile on his face. It was clear he'd been concerned and was happy things had gone successfully. He even went back to the break room which was near where I was and began to tell everyone in a very excited tone that he'd just done his first band aspiration. He did well. I was empty now and couldn't get enough water down my gullet. The Dr. wanted to admit me because of my color as well as a slew of other indicators of dehydration but I refused. I knew it was simply a matter of getting that damned fluid removed...and the water back in my body.

Six days and numerous gallons of gatorade and water later, I found myself finally rehydrated and woofing as much food down as I possibly could. Ugh. Here we go again and my weight went up and up and up and up. . .

Heave-ho!

2011-12-15T09:48:00.000-08:00

Ok, so I told a friend (Hi, Kym) that I was going to post a new entry yesterday and never did get around to it so here we go. . .

So where to begin. . .ahh the joys of the band! My band was fairly tight and I would say it was doing it's job fairly well, but I had to be in control, as usual. I went in on November 1st and asked Dr. Owens for 1/4cc fill. He said my band was pretty tight but I begged and he let me have it. The water went right down, no problems. I lasted a whole 5 days without any issues. I had to eat VERY slowly, taking up to an hour to finish a VERY SMALL amount of food, but I was losing- yay! That Sunday, we were invited to our friends' restaurant to have dinner with them. I ordered a whopping five buffalo wings. I finished my last wing and within 3 minutes I was running to the bathroom to throw it up. I'm sure the poor girl in the stall next to me thought for sure I was bulimic. Well, this was the beginning of a very uncomfortable month + for me.

As par, I went on liquids for 24 hours and slowly introduced foods back in, beginning with soft foods and progressing from there. I was not able to get milk down, cottage cheese, soft cheese, etc. But, staying true to form, I pushed the issue, got something stuck and threw up again. And so began my month-long cycle of liquids, soft foods- Oh, crap can't do it, throw it up, and back to liquids. It eventually got so bad that even SIPPING broth or water caused pain on top of the band. It all came to a head on a Sunday:

My husband and I had to be at mass early because we had dismissal with our catechumen and inquirers. I drank about a 1/4 cup of coffee and noticed acid reflux seemed to be brewing. I should note here that I'd been awoken twice during the night over the last month, throwing up a little bit in my mouth from whatever I'd had for 'dinner' that night. I sucked it up, took my medicine, biotin (both capsules) and then chewed and swallowed my one-a-day vitamin. Mind you, I did this over a 20 minute period. As soon as I swallowed that vitamin, I was done for. The pain I'd felt was unlike anything before. It was like I'd swallowed a tennis ball sized stone that was sitting on the opening of my stomach, unable to go through. I stood up and continued to tell myself to be a good little soldier and deal with it, this too shall pass. Once outside, I found sitting down was painful, standing was painful, breathing at all was painful. The pain had stretched all the way into my back by now and even putting my arms above my head offered no relief. I had my husband drop me back at home- there was no way I could be of any help to anyone in this condition! The pain was so awful I was unable to think of anything else and couldn't even find my phone to contact Dr. Owens. At this point, my heart was palpatating, my breathing was shallow and labored, there was pain in my chest, abdomen, and back, and so I decided to lay down. I lay there, the reflux being ungodly bad, like nothing ever before, and the 'stuck' pain unrelieved. I got up, I sat down, I laid down, then I did it all over again. Nothing I did relieved anything at all. I went to the kitchen to get some milk as by this time I'd already chewed antacids just trying to get the reflux calmed down but nothing worked. So I swigged the milk and the reflux subsided for a second but came back with a vengeance so I swigged again- mistake! My saliva began to run like a faucet and I could feel everything pushing it's way back up through my esophogus. I booked as fast as I could to the sink and stood there wretching and heaving like I haven't done since my stomach flu of '05. I heaved fluids, one nifty color after the next until there was nothing left, but my stomach was determined and continued to heave another five times before allowing me to catch my breath! In all, 15 heaves that began at my toes and worked my entire body not allowing me a single breath in between. THAT is how you spell relief apparently because everything subsided after that. I rejoined my husband at church and went about my day, very slowly sipping only hot liquids and nothing else. Once the pain was gone, I realized my phone had been left in my husband's car- funny the way severe pain pushes other things out of your head.

After mass, I texted Owens about everything and of course he was extremely concerned. He wanted me in the ER if the pain came back like it had been but I was very careful not to take anything in that wasn't hot fluid and I took it in a tiny sip at a time. He told me he wanted me in his office first thing in the am and I wasn't going to argue that- even if it did mean an hour drive in the rain!

looney, but I was worried. Owens asked me what I wanted him to do but asked me to please trust him. I gave him the green light to do what he thought was best and so an entire cc came out.

It has been 3 days since the removal of the fluid and I tell ya, I am still VERY VERY tight. It still takes me an hour to eat anything. I am taking a couple of protein shakes a day and maybe a raw carrot or some raw cauliflower for lunch. I eat dinner with my family, but my dinner consists of about what could fit in the palm of my hand. Am I hungry? No. The amount of food I'm eating right now is just enough to keep me satiated for a few hours. I'm doing well.

So where exactly am I now? Here's the breakdown:
10/2005: 215#
04/2010: 260# (first banding done)
04/2011: 247# (second banding by Owens)
12/2011: 212#

Societal Norms Can Bite Me. . .

2011-11-03T09:39:00.000-07:00

Wow! Well, I went to see Dr. Owens and found I've lost 8# in a month! Woo-Hoo! Doesn't get much more exciting than that! It's the first time I've lost a SIGNIFICANT amount of weight in a month, so happy! Oh, and my wedding ring keeps trying to fall off!

I have now removed all sizes 18 and 20 from my closet and dresser and boy, am I bare. Not a good thing to be when you're financially broke. But it's still a good feeling to know I can no longer fit in those sizes because I'm TOO SMALL for them! What an awesome thing to be able to say! SO, I guess it's a good thing that I held on to some of my size 16 stuff- not a lot but some. Problem there is. . .that stuff is starting to get big on me now too. I am so happy I think rainbows may soon be shooting out of my butt!

I did ask Dr. Owens to give me 1/4 fill. At dinnertime my portions were getting slightly bigger so that told me I was getting a bit stretched. So, he said, "Ah! You're asking for fine-tuning now!" He said it in a way that he sounded happy, like he knew I was finally reaching that 'sweet-spot', and I believe that I am. The more weight that drops off, the more energy I have, and the cleaner my house gets!

Now here's the big question: have I been exercising? Well, I suppose it depends on your definition of exercise! Have I been running, jogging, lifting weights, riding a bike, using the thigh-master, or the chin-master, or the gazelle, or expensive rubber-bands; all those deliberate exercise things? Uh, no! I do wear Sketchers Shape-ups (the serious 4"ers) and I am working all day cleaning, cleaning, cleaning. So, yes I am getting exercise when you compare that to not having the energy to get off the sofa or doing a thing for 15 minutes before my feet, knees, or back hurt so bad I had to sit down. Yes, I'm getting exercise, just not the kind Southern California's societal norms dictate I should be getting. As previously stated, I'm rather defiant so So Cal's societal norms can bite me. When I feel the need to get deliberate exercise, I shall. In the meanwhile, I'm doing very well right where I am.

I Love You, Grandma. . . .

2011-10-26T12:56:00.000-07:00

Just got back from visiting my 94 year old Grandmother in a nursing facility. She's been dealing with dementia/alzheimer's for sometime now. I visited with her yesterday and although fairly lethargic, she knew who both I and my daughter were and our relation to her. So. . .it was a quiet but meaningful visit.

Today, however, I found myself in the strangest of strange situations. Grandma was in a wheelchair in the hallway and I walked up to her, knelt down, put my hand on her knee and said, "Hi, Grandma, how are you today?" She looked at me quite angrily and said, "Who are you?" I knew this day was coming, so it didn't throw me too bad, I just answered her that it was me, Donna, her granddaughter. She told me no that I wasn't her Donna and that I could, "Too-da-loo!" Basically telling me to leave. So, I stayed with her, giving her her space, just so she knew I was around.

Her charge nurse came and rolled her into the game room where they were listening to the Beach Boys and throwing around a beach ball for exercise. I went in, stood behind grandma's chair and just enjoyed watching the elderly people enjoy the music and interaction. Grandma sat quietly, more sleeping than anything else. The nursing staff knew what grandma had said to me and they all were very sweet, consoling me and such, but I didn't feel I needed consoling, I knew the day would come. They told me, "Yes but it still hurts", and they were right. I told them it was just important that I was there- she knew in her heart and soul that I was there and that was all that mattered. I was just a quiet presence is all and that was ok because I knew she could sense me being there.

One of the weirdest things for me, I found, was how to relate to these people. I knew how to communicate with kids, teens, people my age, my elders, but I found in the presence of these folks, these people that had seen more and experienced more than anyone I knew, these people with years of living on their faces, sadness in their eyes, anger on their lips at times, and the want of love and compassion in their hearts, while appearing old, spoke and interacted like children. Here I stood, having raised kids, lost two parents, 3 grandparents, prison guard for 10 years, having witnessed men stabbing men, men hanging themselves, how to check a fool when being disrespectful, I found myself completely dumbfounded for a way to interact, respond and communicate with them. I just stood and smiled, not knowing what to say.

One very tall staff member in all white joined everyone and began clapping her hands to the music. Some of the people responded by clapping in turn, including Grandma. I was glad to see her responding. She even began to smile. The staff member nudged me with her elbow and said, "See?! You get them responding to the joy and it takes them back to the era and they remember the good things!" She must have seen the loss of what to do on my face. She was very kind and sweet with everyone, especially me.

Eventually, they came in and began to wheel everyone out for lunch, it was time for me to head out to receive the kids from school anyways so I approached grandma and told her I had to go. She looked up at me smiling and said, "OH! I'm going to eat lunch! Do you want to have lunch with me?" I told her I couldn't because I had to get the kids. "Next time," she responded. At this point I was knelt down before her again and held her hand. I looked at her and said, "Grandma, do you know who I am?" Awaiting the second heart piercing of the day, she responded, "Yes! You're my granddaughter!" I gave her a great big kiss and hug and promised to return again tomorrow.

It is so hard to watch someone who was so stubborn, head strong and independent suffer this type of mental and emotional anguish. Yes, it is hard on the family, but imagine it: having lived a lifetime and not knowing who anyone is around you, not remembering things from minute to minute, knowing you used to be able to do things that you are no longer capable of doing, even going to the bathroom on your own. . .

I love you, Grandma. . . .

A Few Words About Stupid People. . . .

2011-10-20T11:31:00.000-07:00

One of my most common prayers that I say on at least a daily basis, if not more, is my prayer to God for patience and tolerance of those whom I deem unworthy to breathe the air in our atmosphere. In other words, the stupid folk out there! I am constantly reminded, especially by our parish priest, that the Lord does not grace us with patience, He graces us with opportunities for patience. That being said, I am sure the Lord is very disappointed in me because he affords me numerous opportunities for patience and I fail them at least 9 out of 10 times.
"So what is this weird entry here for in a blog about a lap band?" You may ask. Well, it has nothing to do with the lap band, I just had an incident with one of those 'special' people and I need to share it. So if you don't want to listen to me rant, you need read no further.
This morning, after throwing my back out, I realized my daughter had left her lunch behind. So being the glutton for punishment that I am, and not wanting her to have to eat that horrible cafeteria 'food', I gathered her lunch bag and headed to school, severe back pain and all. Once I arrived, I saw two parents sitting on the wall outside of the office. I presumed they were waiting for their kindergartners but when I noticed the clock said 10:40, I realized it was entirely too early for that so I proceed to the office doors. It should be duly noted at this time that I recently received a new pair of prescription glasses because I can't see worth a shit without them. Do you think I was wearing them? Well, of course not! I'm defiant, stubborn, and certain that I can conquer my eyesight problem. So as I approached the office doors, I noticed (remember, I'm supposed to not be able to see anything without my glasses) the only white sign on the door right at eye level that read, "Earthquake drill in progress, doors are locked, will return in 20 minutes", I begrudgingly sat on the wall because my back hurt so bad, and before long I found myself wanting for a pair of Bose noise cancelling headphones after being barraged by the droll story of this man's wife who can't stand their baby's spit up. About as soon as that thought entered my mind, a bit of entertainment began to approach us.
A man in his very early thirties, dressed in black slacks, black shirt, black tie, and black shoes, looking appropriately dandy with his properly used hair care products, man-bag, and official-looking ID tag hanging off of him, charged the office doors. Now before I go any further, you all need to understand that this man stood no more than two feet away from me. . . so this made things especially amusing. He grabbed hold of one office door, pulled, and when it didn't open he did the same with the other one. He then began to shake the doors as if somehow they were just lodged together and all of us on the wall were too stupid to figure that out. He continued to shake and pull on the doors, stopping only to push his face into the glass to see that the office was empty, just as promised. He shook and pulled the doors again and then he looked at me. Apparently I had that, "Really, Dumb Ass?" look on my face because after looking at me, he stepped back and noticed, right there in front of him, at eye level, was the only sign on the door warning him that the doors were locked. He looked at his watch and proceeded to dance a little jig as if to distract everyone from his stupidity; however, this only served to add to it.
It was at this time I found myself thanking God for never letting this man be a partner of mine when I worked in the prison. This was, after all, the kind of guy who would walk to the guard station and complain of his side hurting, his partners being the ones to notice the shank in his side, you know, the one the inmate was flailing in front of him before sticking him with it! Yes. . .we had stupid people like that working the tiers with us and we were expected to trust them to back us up in serious situations and to get us home safely to our families at the end of our shifts. Perhaps it is this line of work that has made me so sensitive to the stupidity of others, or as my friends tell me, "You're too sensitive to all the little things nobody else notices." Perhaps they're right, noticing those little things are often what protected us from what was about to happen, but I digress. . .
Can ya'll just do me a favor? If you see me out there (I look exactly like my blog photo) and you're about to do something stupid, or you notice someone near me who's about participate in some sort of random, stupid activity, can you please remove yourselves (or them) from my presence? I swear a little piece of my brain melts away every time I'm witness to such stupid antics. I'm just saying. . . .

Getting There So Very Slowly. . .

2011-10-07T15:15:00.000-07:00

I can't believe it's been a month since I last wrote anything. I've been so busy, I haven't had an extra second. I've had three exchange students I've had to pull from host families, host in my home, and find new families for. This on top of my regular everyday monotony I have to take of.

So how have things been going? Interesting, very very interesting. First, When I went to Dr. Owens with my faulty band I was at 240#. I had it replaced by Dr. Owens on April 5th of this year and am now at 219#. It has been slow, but it is different for everyone. My girlfriend Jenn lost 70# in her first year, that roughly works out to 5.8#'s per month or 1.45#'s per week. The average one can expect to lose is 1-2#'s per week per both Dr's I've dealt with. So my average has been about a 1/2# a week. Not the best but it's loss and that's what counts. If you look at my weight loss from the beginning, then I've lost 41# since April of '10, making it 2.5# per month and .62#'s per week. Again, very slow loss but it's still loss. Take into consideration that I have NOT been doing any deliberate exercising since July. I guarantee that if I was on a regimented workout schedule, my loss would be much, much greater. I need to get back to it and that's that.

So, with the tightness of the band I have struggled with eating. I drink 2 protein shakes a day, lots and lots and lots of water, then I have my meal with my family for dinner. Last night for example, we had pork chops, stuffing, and potatoes that I baked in the oven. While everyone had a full scoop of stuffing and potatoes and a full chop, I had a quarter of a chop, a scoop of potatoes, and a 1/4 of a fork full of stuffing. Yes, I was quite full. I have to constantly remind myself to cut my food up like I would for my children when they were still in high chairs and to chew the holy heck out of everything lest I desire to foam up and throw up. . .a very ugly thing so no thanks.

I have an appointment this month to go back and have another fill but that is only a couple of weeks away and I'm not sure that I'm going to go because I'm so tight as it is right now. But, in two weeks I may feel differently. Bottom line is that I have got to get back to exercising- I'm not the young hottie anymore who can manipulate her weight by her food intake. I'm older, my hormones and body aren't the same, and I don't smoke anymore, all of which are a great recipe for weight gain and slow weight loss when you subtract exercise.

So my next step has GOT to be getting my fat ass back into an exercise routine. . .right before the holidays. . .fun!

More lessons

2011-09-07T07:14:00.000-07:00

Well, this is the longest a fill has lasted staying this tight. LISTEN: if you are getting or have the lap band, do yourself a favor and start practicing the whole 'small bites and chew-chew-chew' from the VERY beginning. Even if you aren't tightened where you're supposed to be, REMEMBER: "chew at least 30 times" is key here- if you don't, and you think you can eat normally and you're good and tight- you'll be SORRY!!!!

This has been an interesting fill. . . My morning pill regimen and a cup of coffee keep me full from 6am till about 10, then i have my protein shake and I'm good till about 12 or 1 when I have my next protein shake, then I'm good with water till dinner. Come time to eat, I haven't been eating much. I surprised myself on our camping trip by eating a whole hot link (skin removed, of course) but it took quite a while and I was full when I was done. Other meals, I've had small bits of chicken (steak isn't feeling so great going down right now) and ALOT of salad!

Yesterday was me and my husband's 14th anniversary so he took me to dinner at our favorite Japanese teppan grill. I finished my miso soup, my salad, shrimp appetizer, scallops, a couple bites of filet, and about 1/4 fried rice. That was alot of food for me and did I ever pay for it! Talk about uncomfortable! Yet I had to wonder: why was I able to eat so much. . . .then I began to figure out that sometimes, I can eat a fair amount of food, then I go back to being able to eat very little. The reason as I see it is it has everything to do with my monthly cycle- once that's done and over with, I go right back to eating very small amounts. I wish the damned thing would just go away- I've been dealing with it since the fifth grade and am SO over it, already! I also can't weigh myself during this stretch of time because I inevitably gain about 5 pounds and when you see those show up on a scale- despite whether they're water gain or weight gain- it's always discouraging! So best just to stay away from the scale till everything is done!

Another thing I've noticed with this fill is that I seem to make interesting little cartoon noises anytime I eat or drink. Whatever it is happening as things travel down my esophagus into my pouch causes strange, gurgling noises- sometimes even stranger cartoon character-type sounds. I've spent alot of this last fill trying to cover them up so as not to alarm those around me. Just what I need- people thinking the fat girl is a nut case too because she sits there sounding like a chase scene between Wile E. Coyote and the Roadrunner- lovely.

I hope that some of this information is helpful to some of you, while entertaining to others. For me, it's just another day of adaptation.

Drink Up, Me Mateys, Yo Ho!

2011-08-25T10:16:00.001-07:00

Bleck! Had just a few sips of wine last night and was feeling pretty loopy. Finished the glass and it would seem that after I went to bed, the alcohol continued to hit my system since I woke up tired with a headache this a.m.

WARNING FOR POTENTIAL LAP BAND SURGERY PATIENTS:

Once your band is filled where it is right for you, if you're an alcohol drinker, be prepared to NOT be able to handle the same amount you could pre-lap band. This is a sad moment for me. . . I like my wine and to party with the best of them. . .now my capabilities in that arena have been diminished. Damn! To be Irish and not be able to throw them back! Tis a sad, sad thing!

The Last Fill. . . . .??????

2011-08-24T08:25:00.000-07:00

Things have continued to improve. . .I lost 6# since my last fill two weeks ago and Owens gave me another 1 cc yesterday. After looking at everything, he determined I'm at 7cc's and then gave me a verbal lashing regarding the LACK of importance behind knowing the fluid amount in one's band. He made a good argument- it really doesn't matter because every person is different. I suppose I deserved that- I have been pretty preoccupied with the amount of fluid in my band and what IS important after all, is whether or not it is working for me and apparently, it is. So that is a good thing. This thing is so tight now it actually takes a sec for my coffee to go down. But, in all fairness, I did just have it tightened yesterday which means I'm swollen right now and likely will be over the next few days so it doesn't mean it will be like this forever. But if I keep up at this rate, I'll lose another few pounds right quick.

In the meanwhile, I have found my energy level so high I don't know what to do with myself. I have been making things up to do just so I can keep busy. It's supposed to be upward of 100 degrees today and I'm looking at farting around in our non-air-conditioned motorhome just to have something to do. Quite unheard of for me- I hate the heat. Since my head is spinning with so many things I want to say and the lack of organization to get it all out properly, I will sign off for now and physically work to slow things down. Then. . .maybe I'll be back.

Another Day in the Life. . . .

2011-08-18T08:30:00.000-07:00

And so well, crap! My special needs kid was sent home yesterday for disrupting class to the 3rd degree! When I heard the Principal's 'greater-than-thou' message I about nutted-up, so I called my husband to help me keep perspective. He dealt with the principal, so that provided me with some relief but I still had the task of picking him up and trying to keep myself under control while doing it. Afterall, if I went in their ranting, who would it hurt? My boy, that's who! It was clear that they didn't have his IEP or behavior plan or they wouldn't have been having the issues with him they were having because they would have known how to deal with him effectively. The things is, all of this 'behavior' crap came as a result of Sudden Onset Childhood Epilepsy that was due to him having been put under with Propofol to reset his broken arm. It turned out it was also a medication he was allergic to. So I quickly drove to his school and the first words angrily blurted from my mouth were, "What's going on with the IEP and behavior plan?" The principal responded quickly and carefully that she would have it by next week (Next week? Why??? They've had ALL summer to make sure his paperwork is in it's proper place! Welcome to the sate of California's P.O.S. education system!) so I refocused myself, recognizing I was ready to blow. I gathered up my boy and got the hell out of there before it turned into Chernobyl- my temper being the nuclear fallout!

It has become pretty clear to me that they are paving the way to get him the hell out of that school. I suppose home schooling is better for him anyway. . .the three months I had him home with me he was ahead of everyone else. Since going back to 'regular' school, he's working at a 1st grade level and he's in the third grade. Uh, yeah, something is wrong with this picture!

So how did yesterday go, you ask? The whole 'mind over matter'/'keep busy' philosophy???? Hmmm, well. I read. I read and read and read and read and almost finished Adam Ant's Stand and Deliver. Good book, by the way- I highly recommend reading it. That seemed to help a bit. I guess at some point I began dinner and became engulfed in the book while helping with homework and getting my other one ready for soccer practice. At some point in time I seemed to snap out of it. I don't know why or how, but I did. I know they say the Lap Band is supposed to help (for most) with depression but I could sware it's been worse! I wonder (in my 40's) how much of it is hormonal. . .who knows.

Depression. . .it's Not Just for Movie Stars Anymore.

2011-08-17T08:21:00.000-07:00

So long ago, when first considering the lap band, one of the benefits I always saw in it was that it often eliminated depression. Mind you, I was never one to believe that I had depression until my Gyn. prescribed me a low dose of Prozac for his diagnosis of Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder. I won't go into great detail about it here as it can be searched on the internet, so suffice it to say it is PMS 100 fold. Back on topic, I came to find while on this medicine, I was much happier, more even keeled; thus, my own assessment that I must have some form of depression, right? My husband began to complain after a few years that I seemed rather 'flat' emotionally. It was interesting: our different perspectives, because I didn't see it that way, again I called it being 'even keeled'. Either way, we saw things quite differently. So, the test began. . .

In July, I went off the medicine to see how I'd do. My anger certainly came back in a wash that consumed me to a cellular level! That was a bit surprising. Other than that, I seemed ok, but the anger issue was enough that I knew I needed to get myself back on the medicine. So at the end of July I went back on it.

Into August I found that I kept thinking, almost wishing, that God would take me from this place. I wasn't contemplating suicide, mind you, just wishing I'd be put out of my misery. Nothing made me happy. My kids were stressing me out, my slow weight loss had me down, my husband and I were constantly fighting and hateful to one another (at the time I thought it was him, but at this point, I have to wonder), I was stressed with school being back in session, getting kids to practices, picking kids up, teaching ccd and rcia, everything was weighing so heavily on me I would just break down and cry. Of course, i always made sure everyone was off to school and work before allowing that to happen. I'd had no energy, I just wanted to sleep but I wouldn't allow myself to do so. "Mind over matter," I was always told. This whole time I just kept telling myself, "Adam Ant has dealt with bipolar disorder all of his life, takes no medication for it, and does well with 'mind over matter' and 'keeping busy' tactics." Thus, I set out to do the same.

And so, 4 months after my SECOND lap band surgery, I'm now down 35 pounds. That in itself would make most people happy, yeah? Well, not me. All I saw was that my first surgery was April of '10 and here I was still with 60+ pounds to lose while my girlfriend whose had hers for roughly the same amount of time has lost 70#. So bought some clothes to make myself feel better, knowing full well that in a couple of months I wouldn't be able to fit them and they would join the piles of clothes I already had that I'd bought and was no longer able to fit into due to weight loss..

On top of this, my special needs kid was getting in constant trouble at school and it almost looked as though they were paving the way for his suspension and/or expulsion and here I was, trying to figure out what the hell to do about any of it. Sometimes, it was all just too much.

I have to ask myself, "How the hell did I muster the energy and mental/emotional capacity to deal with all of this last year?" and I found that I can't answer that.

So. . . .depression? Um, yeah, I think so.

The Next Step

2011-07-03T09:36:00.000-07:00

. . .and so the saga continues. I actually lasted a whole month without a fill this last time. Just got another fill this last Tuesday (30th of June). According to their scale, I lost 3# in a month. Not horrible, I guess but not as breathtaking as I'd hoped for. This time, I found out I do actually have 6cc's in. We had sushi the other day and I had a very slight struggle getting it down so that makes me think that maybe another fill and a half and I should be right where I need to be- finally.

In the meantime, I have 20 German high school students here that I will be running around with so the opportunities to eat right will be slim and the chances for deliberate exercise will be null.

So until my next fill (which will be in August).

Just a Wee Bit Obsessed

2011-06-05T08:39:00.000-07:00

I had another fill this last Tuesday. Am I @ 5cc's? I dunno. I keep asking Owens and he's a bit elusive on the matter, stating, "somewhere in there." What do I do with that? I watch the scale, I watch to see if my clothes are loosening as well as my wedding ring, watch, and bracelet. I watch to see how much food I am taking in and guess what. . .? The scale again has not changed, everything continues to get looser, and my food intake is very slightly less than the time before- so what does that mean? It means I will be getting another fill next week.

This last Tuesday, I had lost 3# in two weeks according to their scale. My scale said, "Uh, no, fat ass- you haven't lost anything but a pound! Mu ah ah ah ah ah!" and my scale continues to spew such obscenities at me on a daily basis. Owens was tickled to see me having lost weight, as was I to be honest. So I am hoping one more fill may have me where I need to be??????

I am looking forward to the day that I slow down on weighing myself daily. My husband is too- poor guy. He has to listen to me daily whine about how the scale hasn't changed but my clothes keep getting loser. What is my obsession with seeing those numbers drop? My clothes keep getting bigger- that should be enough of a testimony to my weight loss but NOOOOOO, I HAVE TO SEE IT IN THE NUMBERS! And in the meanwhile, it is driving my poor husband crazy. Every time we have this conversation he tells me, "Stop doing that! Pick one day a week to weigh yourself and don't weigh yourself any other time- your weight will change with water retention and things. So daily, your weight will change a pound or two. That doesn't mean you're not losing weight. I see that you are losing!" Can't get much more support than that, can you- yet still, I wait for the scale to concede to my desire, my DEMAND for lower numbers!

Here is the question: How long will it be before I drive my poor husband crazy with this scale obsession?

Onward ho

2011-05-22T09:27:00.000-07:00

After a visit with Owens on Tuesday, I was filled again and now carry 5cc's of saline in my band. Initially, it felt pretty decent, now, I realize I need more restriction. At a friend's house last night I was able to eat a piece of pizza. Took me a bit longer than the rest, but I got it down. Not a big deal one might think except that I am not supposed to be able to eat doughy white bread when I am adjusted where I need to be, so. . .onward ho!

P.S. It should be duly noted that since eating said 'pizza' bread and also having had wheat bread with lunch today, and considering the ensuing level of excruciating upper gut pain resulting from consuming said breads, I have since decided that. . . . BREAD IS THE DEVIL!

Woe is Me

2011-05-10T07:04:00.000-07:00

Well, up and down with the weight again. Oh yay! I'm back to exercising now that I feel well enough, drinking 4 protein shakes a day and having one small, healthy meal for dinner. Think that would cause you to lose weight? Well, apparently not my body! From what I've learned over the last few years, if I am not on a completely liquid, low cal diet, I won't lose. I hate the fact that I have to struggle the way I do to lose anything. In the old days, I could go on an apple/potato diet for a couple of days and lose 10 pounds. Not now that I'm post babies and 40- sucks!!!

So what else can I do? Increase my exercise back up to 45 minutes five days a week and go completely liquid for a month or two. But. . . I don't want to do that! I enjoy food, the chewing, the knowing something substantial will be filling my belly. I think I will increase my exercise and make an appointment with Owens to have this thing adjusted again, after all, I am eating alot more than I can fit into the palm of my hand- that's for sure. Did I ever mention that is kind of the 'guide' for the band- that you are where you need to be when you are full from an amount of food that would fit in the palm of your hand- and no, that doesn't mean MOUNDED in your palm. I say that because I made Pad Woo Sen, a Thai food made with glass noodles for dinner last night. I ate about a cup of it but it was a mounded cup. I was still hungry afterward but I made myself deal with it and go to bed hungry. My calorie intake was just over 1100 yesterday. Not good. I guess today will be a real struggle- dinner tonight with my husband and 4 protein shakes again and I am sure I still won't lose any weight. Hmph!! The fight is already getting old.

A Stab, A Pasta and a Bowl of Soup.

2011-05-04T08:02:00.000-07:00

Brian took time off of work to go with me to my first post-op appointment. I'd initially lost 6# after the surgery but as the swelling went down, I found I was able to eat more at each sitting although I still wasn't eating like I had been pre-op. By the time I got onto the office's scale, it seemed I had really only lost a mere 2#. When I complained to Dr. Owen's about his scale being wrong, he said my home scale was just being kind because it loved it's home. How could one not absolutely bust up laughing after a remark like that? I did. So, as usual, we had great conversation with lots of laughs- Owens is just a character and a really funny guy- just up our alley, but now it was time for the moment of truth.

He had a look at my incision sites- nothing significant other than my port incision was still healing because it was hot- not a surprise at all. He palpated my belly trying to locate the port. It was strange that every time I touched that area while sitting up it was quite painful, but I found now, while laying on my back, it wasn't painful at all. Very weird. Owen's seemed concerned initially because he wasn't able to find my port, but located it further down in the lower right quadrant. Before deciding to give me a fill, he called in the P.A. to try to locate my port, of course she did so quite quickly. I laid there being the guinea pig I was while they went back and forth about how good she was. It was actually pretty entertaining, but Dr. Owen's is just an entertaining kind of Doctor.

I waited for him to put that needle in my belly- I thought for sure I was going to be screaming like a little girl considering how much pain was still present in the area (not enough to inhibit me, but enough to make me aware of it). As usual- no pain at all. He filled me up to 6cc's and this time it was weird- I felt nothing. The first time he took me up to 6, I felt the thing squeeze around my esophagus, but not this time. Owen's was a bit worried that it might be too tight when I began to drink water as I did it very slowly and carefully initially. I needed to know I could drink it before really drinking it- you know? I didn't want to take too much and throw it all back up on his floor. But, once I found things were going down fine I was able to drink the whole bottle quite quickly.

Owens told me to stay on protein shakes ONLY for two days, then onto soft, etc. Normal- I was used to this from my previous surgeonss office except that they didn't tell us protein shakes, they told us any liquids. No problem- I could do that- after all, I'd been drinking protein shakes for breakfast and lunch anyways (except on the weekends when Bri was home and wanted to go 'pick something up' for lunch). I went home and had my protein shake lunch but I cheated for dinner. . . .so if Dr. Owens is actually reading my blog- I am now officially going to tell on myself. How did I cheat, you may ask?

Bri took me out to dinner despite feeling rather buggish (I'd been fighting off a cold for a couple of days). We went to our favorite Italian restaurant where the manager knows us from our frequent patronage, and where most all of our family physicians also eat. You won't find better Italian food, ambiance or service- and that is a HUGE compliment coming from an Italian mix. So what did I have?????????? Ah, that is the question! With no further adieu- I had a very small dinner salad and a bowl of Lenticchie (lentil soup). It took me absolutely FOREVER to eat my salad as I was eating it a piece at a time, not really sure what to expect or what might happen. I couldn't help but laugh on the inside because Bri would stab his salad four or five times and load it all in his mouth, taking a big bite of bread with it and here I was, one measly piece of lettuce at a time. . . chew, chew, chew, chew, chew, oh wait- no! chew some more and then chew, chew, chew, chew- lettuce appropriately masticated? Yes! Ok, then swallow! It took me a solid 15-20 minutes to eat that tiny 'ol plate of salad. Then on to the soup (which is my most favorite, by the way). One of my kids' Doctors' walked in then and while we exchanged greetings and niceties, my spoon hung suspended over the bowl waiting for it's opportunity to go diver down. I once again turned my attention to the brownish-green goodness in the bowl before me. I was starting to feel full and didn't want to overdue it, so I just left the lentils at the bottom and carefully skimmed the thick broth from the top of the bowl. Mmmmmmmmmmmm, mmmmmmmmmm, mmmmmmmmmmm, mmmmmmmmm- screw protein shakes! After having spooned down most of the liquid, I scooped up a couple of spoonfuls of lentils and. . . .that was just about all she wrote. Feeling pretty full now- even committing the cardinal sin of lap banders: drinking with your food- I was still getting full. So after having about half of my soup, I grabbed my fork, stabbed a piece of Bri's Rigatoni Monsanto, chewed and swallowed it. Uh, feeling even more full now, good Lord it was one piece of pasta! Brian reminded me I needed to have a piece of sun dried tomato with the pasta because that's what makes the dish, so quickly before I got too full, I had another with the tomato and. . . .ok, that's it- stick a fork in me, I'm done! Totally full. What a weird sensation it was to have so little food and be full. I guessed this was what it was like to have a lap band that worked, Woo-hoo!!!!!

Considering Owens told me not to bother coming in to the office unless I felt my band loosening, I was hoping I would be good where I was but only time would tell. When I woke up this morning, I started my typical morning regimen of coffee and I haven't been hungry at all. I think I will have to force myself to drink my protein shake this morning- oh yeah, and I lost a pound. By the way- I changed the battery in my scale so I'm feeling like maybe it will work properly now because if it doesn't, it will be finding a new home.

Until next time. . . .

"Uh, hey, Doc, Is This a Problem. . .?"

2011-04-30T14:52:00.000-07:00

When I got out of the shower I had decided to get this 'new skin' stuff off of me. New skin is a clear substance they use to help keep suture sites together to prevent strain and tearing of the incision site. The thing is, the stuff expands like an inch beyond the site all the way around, so when I started to gently scratch away at the stuff I couldn't help but notice: THIS STUFF was the reason I'd been itching so badly! It felt so good to scratch and pull peel it all off , and I found that once it was off- it looked like I had yet one more surgical adhesive allergy- oh joy!

As I began removing this gunk from around my port site, I peeled a little piece off (it reminded me of peeling dried out Elmer's glue from my skin when I was a kid) and there was a little clear 'hair-like' object hanging from it. Of course I didn't have my now necessary- not accessory- eyeglasses so I really couldn't tell what it was. As soon as I touched it, I knew: "Holy crap! That's a suture!!!" Yikes! So I looked at my port site and lo and behold- there was a lovely little opening at the very end of the site showing beautifully pink underflesh. Wonderful!

Well, what was one to do? I got a bandage, cut a butterfly, pinched the pieces of flesh together and slapped that puppy on there. All good. Just to be sure I wasn't in any serious trouble (this was abdominal surgery after all) I texted my doctor. I whatted my what?!!! Yes, you heard me right, all patients have direct access to Dr. Owens because he gives ALL of us his cell phone number and HE ANSWERS IT!!! He called me back to tell me to do exactly what I'd already done and not to worry unless there was more seperation. Okey dokey- no prob there!

My day went on as usual, nothing spectacular happened, but in the evening as Brian and I sat on the porch swing drinking wine and talking, my cell phone rang it's ridiculous ring-a-ling-ding to alert me of a new text message. I picked up my phone to find Dr. Owens had sent me a text saying, "U did right thing with tape call for more seperation." Even at the end of his day he was thinking about my situation. What can I say? I could never hope to find a better Doctor than him and I am so thankful that I found him.

One Very Important Thing I Forgot to Mention. . . .

2011-04-28T10:11:00.000-07:00

My husband brought to my attention that the only brief mention I made of him in all of this was a trashed kitchen and a brief, "Sorry, Dear" and he was right- doesn't happen often, but this time he wins.

I need to mention that Brian took off a couple of weeks from work the first time around to stay home, deal with kids, house, animals, laundry and take care of me. I was and still am thankful for that because while they tell you you can return to work by the 4th day post-op, I still have yet to meet the soul who is up to it by day 4. I was in a lot of pain the first time around and was very, very thankful I had a husband who gave a flying fig and CHOSE ON HIS OWN to stay home. Thank you for this, Brian.

This last time. . . .hmm, well it's a long story I wont go into but I literally got my surgery date confirmed the evening before I was to go in. Brian didn't have a lot of time to prepare and so was only off with me for 3 days as he has weekends off and my surgery was a Wednesday. Nevertheless, he sat there with me in pre-op for five hours starving along with me. He was so worried about leaving to eat and missing Dr. Owens. Finally when they wheeled the man in across from me into surgery I made Brian leave, after all, the Dr. had a patient in surgery now- there was no way he was leaving to come talk to us at that point. And when the mishap came that the 'other lady' almost went in before me- it was Sir Brian who went gallantly to the nurses station to make sure THAT didn't happen.

When I was finally wheeled into my room, Brian wasn't there. I was upset- not because I thought he'd run off, but because I wanted and NEEDED to see him and was worried that he didn't know where I was. It turned out he was waiting in the wrong area and people weren't opening the door for him but he found me in time. I was glad. Of course, almost instantly, I made him start helping me get to the bathroom, get dressed, etc. all the things you're supposed to be able to do before they let you go home. It didn't work out that way but damn it, I tried, and he was there helping me. He was telling me to take my time but I was stubborn and determined to be home within the hour- not just for me but for him. . .really, more him than me. He'd waited around since 9:30am and now it was getting close to 9pm- I, at least, got to sleep for a couple of those hours.

For all of this, being my husband, my advocate, my friend, my support. . .I thank you, Brian, and thank God everyday for you. I love you.

Sorry- No Filter Between Brain and Mouth, Sometimes Things Just Come Flying From my Pie Hole

2011-04-27T11:42:00.000-07:00

Ah so, onto recovery. . . . . .

Day 1 (Thursday April 21): Not so bad. Gut painful, sore throat, sore neck, arms a bit sore, legs a bit sore, meds keeping the edge off.

Day 2 (Friday April 22): Much like day 1, pain still the same.

Day 3 (Saturday April 23: Easter Vigil Mass): I suppose right here I should note that we are members of RCIA (Rite of Christian Initiation for Adults) at our parish so this night is a BIG night. Brian had a reading to do, I had a reading to do, it was an important mass for us, plus we got to watch all of our Elect and Candidates finally receive the sacraments they've waited so long for. I wasn't missing this regardless of how much pain was in, and man, was that an ignorant outlook on my part! I got through my reading, even made it to the back of the parish to carry the offeratory lillies to the alter, then true to our catholic style: sit, stand, sit, stand, stand longer. . .wait! Longer still keep standing, now kneel- stay. . . .stay. . . stay. . .now stand again! I jest but I DO understand why we stand, kneel, and sit during mass and I was determined to PARTICIPATE in the mass. As the saying goes, "Seek quiet places for our Lord whispers and the world is loud." He'd been telling me all night, "Donna, sit down, stay down, in fact go home and go to bed! I won't love you any less for not being here, you need to heal." But in my typical Irish-Italian-catholic guilt kind of way, I tuned his quiet, gentle voice out telling myself that if My Lord could suffer as he did for me, I could suffer this little bit for him. Plus the music and distraction of the mass helped me not to listen too I suppose.

Day 4 (Easter Sunday): Uh no, not going to my husband's parents house, not getting up off the sofa to use the bathroom, or get a drink, or anything! This day was AWFUL!!! This was the day I realized I should have listened to God. . .stubborn as I am I knew He was right but I was determined to make it through last night. I did so with flying colors and was paying for it on Easter Sunday. I glued my butt to that sofa and slept most of the day, waiting for Brian and the kids to get home. The pain in my legs was unbearable, my arms felt as though they would fall off, my throat was so sore I was beginning to wonder of I had strep, and my neck hurt like holy hell! What did they do to me on that O.R. table? I had gut pain the first time around but not this arm, leg and neck garbage- eesh! It was just too much. I was downing 100mg Tramadol every 5 hours and pumping 1500mg Tylenol every couple and NOTHING was easing the pain- it was like I without pain meds at all! What a miserable day!

Day 5 (Monday April 25): My German Exchange Daughter Laura stayed home- no school today. I couldn't believe the way I felt when I woke up! I was glad my leg pain was gone, my throat pain was subsiding, my neck pain was tolerable, but my arms hurt from my shoulders all the way down to the backs of my hands and my gut, of course, still hurt significantly. I got up, slowly hobbled downstairs (every step felt like a hot poker in my gut and grabbing the handrail felt like I had IV needles still inserted in my hands), I walked into the kitchen and, "What in holy hell is this mess???" Yes, My kitchen was a disaster zone. So, of course instantly every suture point begins to throb painfully because of the boiling blood being pumped throughout my body (yet another downfall of being Irish-Italian: my temper). Grrrrrrrr!!!! So, after getting the kids off to school, there I was, standing cock-eyed, holding the counter for support while leaning sideways to empty the dishwasher, put the dirty ones in and start it up (because my gut was so sore, swollen and still filled with air to bend over). I was so pissed, I just knew I would soon be witness to blood spurting from my port incision.

Once done, I picked up the counter and the living room (to what degree I could) and went back to bed. I was back in bed by 8am and fell asleep till 1pm. Apparently, I needed it. I improved after the nap but not by a whole lot. That night, I took some Tylenol PM and slept hard, having a pillow to support my gut when I laid on my left side improved things immensely. Brian was attacked at random by me when he got home. I was mad at him for the kitchen, for having to get the kids off to school, for having to cook dinner, let's face it: I was pissed because I hurt so bad and he got the blunt end of the stick. Sorry, Dear.

Day 6 (Tuesday April 26): My best friend Jenn came over to hang out and talk and watch movies. She'd had a different kind of surgery the week before mine so she was going to be off work for sometime. She was a life saver! It was good just to be around a friend for a while. It's just one of those things, ya know? I was doing better so I took her to lunch (my new favorite Thai restaurant) and we returned to my house to watch Dont' Mess with the Zohan. After alot of laughing and busting up (who doesn't love Adam Sandler), we'd decided it was a really good day- my leg, neck, throat, arm pain was GONE and only a slight bit of gut pain remained, albeit my suture sites were beginning to itch. I'll take itchy suture sites over the pain I'd been feeling up to then any day!

Day 7 (Wednesday April 27): Uh, yeah so I'm pretty much back to my old cantankerous self. Full of 'piss and vinegar' as my Mom liked to say. I still have some gut pain but more than anything I'd just like a brush with porcupine quills to scratch the crap out of these suture sights- they're driving me crazy!!!

What a beautiful day the Lord has blessed us with; the blue sky, the bright, warm sun shining down, the sweet birds singing away, and gentle smell of Sweet William wafting through the air. Hmmmmmmm, this is what I wake up for everyday, thank you, God! and yet I wonder. . . .will I be able to wear a bathing suit and not have an embarrassing body by this time next year? Now how does one go from thanking God for a beautiful day to wondering about their body in a bathing suit? I tell ya- only me! This thought makes me remember a remark by one of my dear friends only a few weeks earlier that we (meaning she and I) would be, "Hotties with hot bodies by summer." Well. . .I love her to death but I don't know what the hell she was thinking. I've lost 6 # since the surgery but that is only because I'm still pretty swollen- I currently only have 2cc's in my new band. I will see Dr. Owens on May 3rd and get a fill, probably 2 more cc's to take me to 4 and see how I do. I have to say I am so excited to start dropping this weight!

So here is the thought I leave you with today:

In trying to improve the way in which I view my body, I placed a note on my mirror that reads,
"Objects are smaller than they appear."

To Re-band or Not to Re-band. . .That is the Question!

2011-04-27T10:18:00.000-07:00

9:30 in the morning at an O.C. Hospital is not my idea of fun but I was excited that I would finally have a working band!!!

Owens explained that he would not do a fluoroscope on me because he felt they were very difficult to read (see the second photo below, the arrow shows the leaking dye in a flouroscope). They worked for large, obvious lap band issues but not slight, subtle problems. A fluoroscope is a procedure where the band is filled with a dye that shows up on an xray and enables the physician to see where the band is leaking. He told me he would put me under a general, get in there and inject a colored dye- he felt this was a MUCH better way to detect the leak. I was fine with that. The last thing I wanted was for him to replace my port and the problem be with my tubing or the band itself (this, btw, is what my previous surgeon's PA had planned to do). With Dr. Owens plan, there would be less cutting, less anesthesia use and less trauma to my already traumatized body.

5 hours later, I was finally being wheeled into surgery, after almost having some other lady who came in about 10 minutes earlier being told she was going next. When my nurse called Dr. Owens to tell him I'd been waiting since 9:30am he told her, "Well then send her over!" Someone got their wires crossed here- I don't know who it was but I wasn't about to reschedule after waiting five hours, having not eaten or had anything to drink since 9pm the night before, and suffering through a migraine while waiting for my surgery time. I just wanted it done so I could back on the right road. Needless to say, I was not the on rescheduling- Woo-Hoo!. Sorry, other lady : / .

When I awoke after surgery, I was still in the O.R. Like my previous surgery, everyone around me was shocked to see me awake so quickly. You can't keep a crazy woman down, I guess. The first thing I noticed was, "Good God! My head is still killing me! How is it they could use all those drugs and my head still hurt?" Then, "Oh my Lord, what is that? My throat and my next hurt so bad. . .must have had to intubate me, crap that hurts!" Then I focused on my gut. . .not too bad actually. About that same time, suddenly, every lick of pain left my body. I can only assume someone put some kind of pain meds in my IV. When I got to recovery, my gut hurt a little so they gave me a shot of pain medication. I'm one of those weird cases, I can't take most pain meds: Valium, Vicodin, Morphine, Delaudid, Codeine, as I get SEVERE headaches from them. For my first surgery, they gave me Darvocet but I was being told it had been removed from the market since my surgery last- uh, yeah, that was a bit scary. So they were giving me a medicine called Tramadol. The shot worked great.

The recovery nurses were fun, hanging out by my bed, we were joking and laughing, They had disco music playing in recovery and I told them that all they needed was a disco ball and they could have their own club. Well, of course we were cracking up- you'd never known I just came out of a room where I'd had 2 plastic contraptions pulled from and pushed into my gut with long metal poles inserted into my abdomen to maneuver everything around. It was weird in a way I guess, but it was a much nicer memory than my first surgery recovery room where staff was talking smack about other staff members, cussing, calling people names. Totally unprofessional. I'll take the happy, joking disco nurses any damn day!

Brian told me that Owens injected my band with dye and could find no leak. He decided to remove my old band and put in a whole new one- this way there was no doubt that the leak had been dealt with. My old band was sent to pathology for further inspection. He told Brian he was able to use the track of the old band so no new sutures were put into my stomache. The 'track' Owens was referring to is made when you first have your lap band put in. They bring up sections of the stomach around the band and suture them into place. This helps the band stay in the proper position (photo just above)) and also why you DO NOT want to throw up for the first couple of months after surgery!

We finally left the hospital at around 9pm and we were finally headed home. I was happy, Brian was happy- worried, but happy, and I just couldn't WAIT to get into my own jammies and bed!

The FNG (Friggin' New Guy)

2011-04-27T08:55:00.000-07:00

In my extreme dismay with my previous surgeon, I set forth on a quest to obtain a new, better, kinder, more considerate and caring surgeon with an office staff that actually gave a damn.

Thus I found my current surgeon, on accident quite honestly. I just began to search the Internet for local bariatric surgeons and their ratings and came across his name which sounded familiar to me. It sounded familiar because he was one of the surgeons I had considered when I decided to look into the procedure initially. The selling point for me with Dr. Owens this time around was that there was a story about a patient who had lost all kinds of weight from having the lap band. This was not too much of a selling point for me as I'd read the statistics, heard the stories and testimonies (God, was I tired of that), so what was it about this story that made me go with Owens? This particular woman was the nurse at my OB-GYN's office. Her name is Kim and I'd known her for over 10 years. The last time I'd been in to see my Dr. and saw Kim she had lost QUITE a bit of weight and I commented on it. She had told me then that she had had the lap band put in (why I didn't ask her then and there who she'd used is beyond me!). But anyway, here on this page I was looking at the Kim I'd known (a big girl just like me) and her final results: Good Lord almighty!!!! That's Kim???? Holy cow she has lost ALOT of weight and looks awesome!!!! As I read her story, I found we were doing almost the exact same workout routine and she was dropping like crazy because of a surgeon that saw her at each appointment and knew what he was doing. Ho hum, ok, I will email the office and see what happens, and that's what I did.

It absolutely blew me away that within 10 minutes of that email someone from Owens office was calling me. The Office Manager, Javier, called to give me info and to find out my story. When I told him the whole story he just sat there- almost dumbfounded. He apologized to me stating how sorry he was that my experience had been so negative up to that point but commended me on not gaining a bunch of weight back as most people would have at this point. He took all my insurance info and within 20 minutes I had an appointment 2 days away to meet with Owens! YAY! Thank God! Now maybe things will turn around for me!

I will never forget the first day I went to the office: I was blown away! I was thinking, 'Oh brother, with a gorgeous office like this, this guy has to charge a small fortune and Ima be screwed cuz we won't be able to afford his costs over and above what my insurance is willing to pay'. So, yeah, I was sweating it a bit. His office was incredible! Beautiful wood flooring, intricately designed wood panelling with crown moulding around the secretaries' station, gorgeous 3d art panels, custom wallpaper and window coverings and neoclassical King Louis styled furniture. . . .I was right at home but worried about the bill to come. I found out later, there was no need to worry- it was just an absolutely gorgeous office.

While waiting my turn, a patient of Owens came in and sat next to me and began telling me how she'd gotten her band done in Mexico (this scares the crap out of me and I don't know why anyone would do such a thing!). She also began to tell me how she'd had hers for a year and lost only about 40# (I couldn't help but think she must have been HUGE because she was about the same size as me). Later, she told on herself and I found out why she'd lost so little: she swore she knew the secret as to how to bypass the lap band. Bypass the Lap band?? Really??? Then WhyTH would you pay the money, risk your life going under the knife in friggin' Mexico and waist a doctor's time getting the damned thing in the first place????? 'What a dumb a**', was all I could think. She told me how I could bypass it too, "Eat anything you want- just makes sure you drink hot liquid with it and it will force it down." Stupid- everyone knows you're not supposed to drink when you eat with the band because it washes everything down defeating the fullness you're supposed to feel with the band, thus you're hungry sooner, eating more often and just plain eating more. Well, being the dumb ass that I am, you know I had to test her theory because we're talking experiments now and I'm here to tell you: DON'T DO IT! Food still got stuck and it hurt like hell! I don't know what that lady's issue is but it isn't mine and I have no intention of ever trying that trick again! Phew! Glad that was over!

When I finally met Owens I was quite happy. He was a gentle person, friendly, had a good sense of humor (a MUST for me) and very knowledgeable. When I told him my story, he of course knew my previous surgeon, but was on top of educating me about getting my band repaired or replaced so I could get where I needed to be. When he tried to pull fluid from my band, all that came out was 2cc's (remember they put in 9 at my last appt @my old dr.'s), so he gave me 4 cc'sthe back to get info on getting my insurance in line to repair this thing. Something weird happened: no burping, no gurgling, no really anything. The girl at the desk asked me how I was doing and I said, "Fine I get alot of air trapped so I just have to wait for the air to pass before the water will go down." NOT! I actually left the office, got 2 blocks away and threw up my saliva and water. Gross? Well, yeah- you should be the one doing it! Of course I turned around and went back. He took me down to 4cc's and I was good for about a week till I had to go back for another fill to bring me back up to 4cc's (by this appointment I only had 1cc left in). I was shocked that for the first time ever, a fill of a mere 4cc's was working. I couldn't explain it. Within a couple of weeks (and before the 'appointment' date my previous surgeon had me scheduled for) I was set and ready for surgery to have this band finally dealt with!

So then what?

2011-04-26T10:28:00.000-07:00

Well, I had my band put in and two weeks later had to see the surgeon to be sure the wounds were healing properly. After about a three hour wait, I got to see him for 10 minutes to tell me I was fine. By the way, did I mention there was a 30 minute drive time to his office? This visit with my surgeon to look at my suture sites would be the last time I ever saw him. Every time I went into the office thereafter was for fills and was with his Physicians Assistant.

So I had 1 fill (5cc's), then 2 months later another fill (1cc), then two months later another cc, then two months after that another cc, then a month later another cc. So, if you're following along and doing the math, you now see I had 9CC'S in a 10cc band! I initially lost 10# pre-op and gained that back by my second fill. Hmmm, something isn't right, right? You should be losing right away, especially after a 5cc fill, right? Well, I didn't want to jump the gun and assume they were screwing up- they had more experience with the band than I did and it JUST HAD TO BE MY FAULT- I was sure of it! During this particular appointment, I actually had their 'nurse' (or office assistant, I don't know what her title was) tell me that the 1 piece of See's candy I'd had wasn't something I needed to have, now was it? Don't think for a minute I didn't want to come flying off that table and slap her her upside her silly little head! Never mind that I had been drinking my protein shakes, watching my intake, logging all my exercise and, oh yeah, Miss Priss; that damned piece of See's Candy was allotted into my daily calorie intake, it wasn't a 'binge' thing and besides- it was 1 damned piece! All in all, in a year I'd lost 25#- pathetic!

The last time I went in to see that PA I finally LOOKED at the needle sticking out of my belly. Up to this point I couldn't do it. He pulled on that syringe plunger with all his might trying to pull fluid from the band. By this point I should have had 9cc's in there, but he couldn't even get 7 out! BTW, it should be noted between 5-6 cc's is normal for most females- not 9! When I asked him about this, he said there was a leak in the port and I needed a revision. Ok, first of all, how the hell does he know its the port and not the tubing having become disconnected or broken or the actual band leaking? Does he have x-ray vision and if so, where'd he get it because I need some- I have kids! All joking aside, I asked a few questions that caused the PA to trip over his tongue and reveal he'd known there was a leak for a while but was just now revealing it to me. Don't think I wasn't pissed!

He scheduled me out TWO MONTHS for a revision. At this point, my restriction wasn't lasting even two weeks so how was I supposed to go two months without turning into a cow again???? This was a crock of you-know-what, especially considering I could NEVER get in without an appointment made 1 to 2 months in advance!! I figured I'd just suck it up and deal with it. I was watching my calorie/fat/protein intake daily on fitday.com and was working out 3 days a week between a bike and a treadclimber.

After a month, I was eating like a horse. I increased my workouts to 45 minutes 5 days a week and was still gaining. I called the office and asked for an appointment for a fill because I had another month to go and had no restriction. I was told I would be put on a wait list. BULLSHIT!!!! This past year I'd put up with incompetence from these people, assumed my lack of weight loss was something I was doing wrong, and put up with the office staff making me feel like I was a burden for showing up to my appointments. I was done with this surgeon and this office and began my search for a new doctor. . . . .

In the beginning. . . .

2011-04-26T09:31:00.000-07:00

I really had no plan on starting yet another trite, unrelenting and uninteresting blog about weight loss and Lap Band surgery. That is, until I joined a support group that really pushed me to do so because of some of the issues I've had. . .and had not. So here I go and I hope I don't bore you all out of your minds. . .

Ok, so April 5, 2010 I have the lap band put in. No biggie, sore after surgery but I'm good after about day 5- at least to do somewhat normal activities. More than anything, I'm ready to lose all of this damned weight!

Why did I go through with such a drastic surgery? Well, first, allow me to say I don't feel the band is anywhere near as drastic as the gastric bypass! PLUS, I still have my duodenum in place to take up nutrients my body needs- the duodenum is removed in the bypass procedure, thus, the reason folks who have bypass surgery need to be on tons of supplements for the rest of their lives! But why didn't I just diet and exercise, you say? I did! Not only did I diet and exercise, I would lose the weight and once I started eating normal again (normal like most people, not like a pig, or a hog, or a cow, or a horse!), it all came back +! You all have to understand. . . when I was 'thin' I near starved myself to stay that way. I rarely ate and when I did, it was very, very little. Why? Well, because I knew as soon as I ate like a normal person, the weight would pack on. Doing this to myself for 20+ years, I taught my body to store fat because it never knew when it was going to be fed fuel! After a few kids, I began to eat normally and I became fatter and heavier, finally topping out at 260# at 5'8" (my height is a source of contention between me and my first surgeon. He says I'm 5'7" but my new surgeon says I'm 5'8". For surgical purposes, however, being shorter increased my BMI and got me into surgery sooner so I guess I need not complain). Anyhow, back to the facts. . . .

I decided to go through with it. One of my dearest friends had had the band about 6 months before me and I was watching her lose weight and feel better, and I was so tired of my feet hurting, my back hurting, running out of breath, etc. I was ready and that was that!