It's been a little over three weeks since my surgery (and a little over 32 pounds!!). I haven't been on the site because I have had a lot of conflicting thoughts. Now I am glad that I did it, but the first week and a half post-op was a mess. My surgery did not go as planned. On the day of my surgery things started to fall apart. First they could not find any usable veins, resulting in a cut down ON MY NECK. It was horrible, uncomfortable and IT HURT. That should have warned me! They put me under, inserted the tube and I have a major asthma attack. I haven't had an attack in 15 years and I had quit smoking 6 months before. They stopped the surgery - I mean they cancelled the surgery. Try again the next day. Well the next day comes around and at about 4:00 pm I am taken down to the OR. Now I am REALLY nervous, but the staff and surgeon were wonderful and supportive. My husband on the other hand was a bag of nerves and kept telling me I could back out anytime, but no, I was determined. My nervous husband went to pace the waiting room and I went to La La land. My husband was expecting someone to come out after 2 hours tops to tell him that everything was hunky dory. After 3 hours he said he was panicked. After 3 1/2 hours a nurse came out to tell him that there were complications, and the surgery would be taking longer than expected. A 3 foot long section of my large intestine had adhered to mesh used to repair a hernia 3 years ago. The section had to be cut away and repaired. Lucky me. (Actually I was. The surgeon told me that it was very luck they found it when they did. I could have had serious problems if it hadn't been found) A gastric by-pass and bowel re-section all at the same time. After 5 + hours of surgery I was finally done.
I wasn't prepared for all the pain. Everyone I talked to said how wonderful it was, and how much weight they were losing and how they would do it again in a heart beat. I was in such terrible pain. The morning after my surgery, they sent an 80 lb aide to get me up to take me for a swallow test. My husband went nuts. He ran to the nurses station to tell them that the little itty bitty aide was in no way going to touch me. I could crush her if I fell. They sent more help and I was placed in a wheelchair. Nauseous and in pain, I stood and did the test, heaving the whole time. I finally got back to my room, expecting to be able to press the PSA button for the rest of the day in peace, but of course that was not to be. My blood pressure dropped very low. The surgeon comes in and decides that I need an x-ray of my bowels, and he was disconnecting the PSA temporarily because of the blood pressure. He wanted a STAT x-ray, to be taken in my room (he was afraid that there might have been a problem with the re-section) . Of course that would be too easy. They send Twiggy and her partner Slim to bring me over. They want me to transfer on a stretcher. There was no way this was going to happen. After going back and forth, they decided to bring me down on my bed. We go to the x-ray and they want me to transfer onto the table. I was hurting so bad and couldn't do it, so Twiggy and Slim (don't hospitals hire any strong beefy aides?) manage to get me on the table. I am usually stoic and don't complain, but I lost it. I couldn't stop crying, and there was no way I could get back in my bed. I kept asking for my 6'6" 360 lb husband to come in and move me and they wouldn't allow it. Finally a doctor came in and suggested they use a transfer board which worked - with 5 people helping. Why they didn't do this at first is beyond me.
When I finally got home, I couldn't sleep in my own bed, I couldn't stand on my own - I couldn't do ANYTHING on my own. My saint of a husband would literally drag me down to the end of the driveway 3 times a day. He was told it was very important for me to walk and he was going to listen, no matter what!
Then I noticed I was starting to feel better. I was able to do a little more and my walks got longer. The turning point came when I saw the sink was full of dishes and I went over and did them. I was 8 days post op.
I am now walking about 3/4 - 1 mile a day - all by myself.
I think the bottom line is that I wish people would have been more forth coming about the pain and difficulties post op. I really went into this thinking it was going to be a breeze and it wasn't. I could have prepared myself better. But after all is said and done, I am happy I did it, but right now, I don't know if I would do it again.