On Saturday February 25, 2006 at 3am
I was taken to the emergency room. I was sick for many days. I kept throwing up
and couldn’t eat much. I knew what it was before we even went. I had gallstones
and they were getting worse. For the last three years I had been dealing with
them. Since 2003 doctors told me to have Gastric Bypass Surgery, and remove my
gallbladder at the same time. Three years later I still had gallstones and they
were getting worse. Some of the Gallstones had become loose and lodged in my liver.
At this point they could no longer put me on the back burner. I was admitted to
the hospital on one of my many stays there. I was in and out of the hospital at
this point every couple of months for one reason or another. I was scheduled to
have Gastric Bypass Surgery in 2003 but they decided two weeks before the
surgery that the doctor didn’t want to operate on me because I was an extremely
high risk patient.
This is a list of the many
health conditions that helped me decide to live or die: Congestive Heart Failure,
Cardiomyopathy, Enlarged Heart, Hypertension, Stage Two Kidney Disease, Diabetes,
severe Gout, Fatty Liver and Fluid Retention. I was taking 17 pills a day just
to stay alive. I have been ill since I was 27 years old and have been near death
more than half a dozen times. I have gone into heart failure a few times and my
heart function has been down to 10% which is on the border of cardiac arrest if
it had gone any lower.
While in the hospital in I
met a doctor that was willing to remove my Gallbladder and he asked if I was
still interested in having Gastric Bypass Surgery. I told the Doctor if you
think you can get me thru the surgery, why the hell not? I was going to die
anyway if I had stayed at my current weight. I decided to take my chances and
go for it. I was told my mortality rate was 20% which is very high, considering
for anyone else having general surgery it is only 1-3%. In my eyes I had a
50-50 shot and anything was better than the way my life was going.
My husband walked out of the
room while the doctor was talking to me about the surgery, and he informed me
that I was going to die if I had Gastric Bypass Surgery. I told my husband I
was going to die anyway. Sooner rather than later if I didn’t get some of this
weight off of my body.
On March 23, 2006 , the day before the surgery I wrote my will, called
all my friends/family and told them all how much I loved them. I was so calm it
was scary to most of them. To me it meant I was ready. I had Jell-O and chicken
broth every few hours that day because I couldn’t eat anything 24 hours before
the surgery. My parents spent the night at my place. We woke up very early to
get ready. My mom was very somber and kept looking at me like she was never
going to see me again. I told her not to worry, if anything did happen I wouldn’t
feel a thing because I would be sleeping. We all said a prayer together and
left for the hospital.
We arrived at 8a.m. and I was taken to pre-op to change into a gown and
given something to help me relax. The entire time my parents were by my side
and my best friend was stuck in traffic trying to get to me before they took me
in to the operating room. She kept missing me at every turn as they wheeled me
to another pre-op room. She went into melt down outside, so they let her in to
see me for one minute.
I was given an epidural to
help me with pain after the surgery. It took a long time for them to get it in
my spine just right because of my back fat, plus you can’t move at all while
they are injecting you. The last thing I remember was the Anesthesiologist spraying
something in my mouth and telling me to swallow. They were having trouble
getting the tube in my throat. A few hours later I heard lots of noise and
people calling my name. They were saying squeeze my hand if you can hear me. I
could hear them but I couldn’t move my body at all! I couldn’t speak because I
was on a vent with a tube down my throat. I was told in advance that I would be
on the vent for at least 24 hours to make sure I could breathe on my own. My
pain meds were also limited so I was more alert. My doctor did this because of
my heart conditions. It would have been easy for someone with my health
conditions to just slip into a coma and not wake up. This is why I was given
the epidural to help with the pain. Oddly enough, it worked.
Being on the ventilator was
the worst part for me. I begged them to take it out. I felt like I was choking
and the Nurse would have to come in and suction out the tube. I would wake up
every hour and watch the clock to see how much time I had left on this machine.
I was in ICU for 7 days. After the 24 hours went by I was taken off the ventilator.
I had tubes coming out of me all over the place. I had a catheter that went
thru my neck and down into my heart. I had a central line that went thru my
neck. I had a tube that went down my nose into the back of my throat. I had four
IV’s just incase one went bad. One IV in each hand, one in my neck and one in
my thumb. All this was just day one in ICU.
48 hours after my surgery I
still couldn’t have anything by mouth. No ice chips, no liquids, no nothing!
The nurses were wonderful. Every hour the nurse came in to turn me and swab my
lips. I wasn’t able to move much at all because my incision was a foot long. My
Gout got worse and I was unable to walk. The lift team came in daily to get me
out of bed and into a chair so I could sit up. The Doctor was very concerned
that I was unable to walk. But they couldn’t give me the old medication I use
to take to keep the Gout under control because on my new stomach.
They gave me a course of steroids
to bring down the inflammation in my feet. Because of my heart conditions we
were taking a big chance. After seven days in ICU, I was moved to a regular
room. I still couldn’t walk but I was able to sit up in bed with some help. I
was also able to sip a little juice or water and chew ice. Food was the last
thing on my mind. I hated all the food they gave me in the hospital. The
protein shakes made me vomit. I had my mom bring my protein drink from home. I
used Pro-Complex and it tasted just like chocolate milk.
Once I was moved to a regular
room, I developed a fever and my white blood cell count was elevated. This
meant an infection. The middle of my incision was infected. My Doctor pulled
out a few of my staples and it was badly infected. The wound had to be drained
and packed. The wound began to tunnel
and grew deeper. The fat was beginning to turn to liquid and had no where to
go. Once the wound was opened it can not be stapled shut again. Now the wound
had to heal itself from the inside out.
This was a huge milestone for
me. I weighed over 500 pounds for most of my adult life. I would lose and gain
the same fifty pounds over and over!!
Once a day, the Wound Care Nurse
would come to check my wound and pack it. The wound was packed 4-5 times a day
in the beginning. It was a north and south tunnel. My friends and family all
took turns sleeping on my couch to take care of me. I was unable to be left
alone and could still only walk a little.
Everyone saw the changes in
my body but me. I saw the same old person.
But the following week I
gained 5 pounds. I was shocked and was stressed out about it. I of course,
called the Doctor right away. He told me to relax and that my body was just
trying to hold on to the fat, and due to my lack of immobility, I was still
retaining some fluid. The Doctor put me on a new Gout medication and it began
to help. I got out of the wheelchair and onto a walker. I was still in pain but
trying to power through it. I was able to free myself of the walker and
wheelchair.
Every day the nurse came to
check my wound and it was not getting any smaller. I can’t keep anything down
and throw up several times a day. Severe nausea and dry heaving was how I spent
most of my days. Dehydration set in and I ended up in the hospital. They did an
upper GI test to see if I had a blockage. None was found. I spent a week in the
hospital, and then was sent home. My wound became infected after I got home
from the hospital and they thought it might have been a Staph Infection, which
you can get from a hospital stay. It wasn’t Staph but a nurse did leave a piece
of gauze in my wound. My fever was 105 degrees and I almost ended up back in
the hospital again. My Doctor had his hand inside of my wound and pulled the
left over gauze out. I was in shock and sick as hell.
My Doctor decided to try a
Wound Vac. At the time sounded nice, but didn’t help me at all! It made the
outside of the wound close and the inside was still a gaping hole. I had to
have another surgery to reopen that section of my incision. This was done under
a local anesthesia and hurt beyond the level 10 face on the card they show you
to describe pain levels. During this surgery My Doctor found a piece of sponge
that a Nurse left inside of me from the Wound Vac. I have pictures for the
people who aren’t faint at heart. June 4, 2006 , I was down to 474.
The next few weeks I struggled to learn how to eat again. I threw up all
the time if something didn’t agree with me or I took one bite too many. On July 24, 2006 I weighed in at 466 and I was concerned to see my
weight loss slow down. This turns out to be due to my lack of mobility.
By August I could walk again
on my own. I couldn’t walk far but I could walk around my apartment. I could
also walk to and from my car. I now eat tuna, salmon, green beans, eggs, cheese
and crackers. I can’t eat chicken or anything reheated in a microwave. I ate
beans, Bad Idea! The gas built up and caused pain for hours. I do not eat any
sugar or drink any soda.
My wound was still open and I
still can’t be alone because someone has to repack it several times a day.
In September my wound was
making some progress and getting smaller. The Wound Care Nurses now came three
times a week because the wound was doing better. My Doctor said it would take a
year for it to fully close. I was not happy about that news. The faster I lost
weight, the longer it takes to heal because fat won’t stick to fat. You need
the inside of the wound to be scrubbed with gauze to irritate it then it can
start to stick together.
October comes and fall is
here. All I wanted for my birthday was for my wound to be closed and healed all
the way. I came close to getting that wish but it didn’t happen.
I didn’t panic because
certain times of the month I tend to gain 2-4 pounds the week before my monthly
cycle. All I thought was, at least I didn’t gain a pound.
November is here and this was
my first Thanksgiving post surgery. I was worried about being around all that
food. Just the sight of any large amount of food would make me nauseas. I
helped my mom cook the usual family feast and we made some of the dishes on the
healthier side for me. My entire family was in support of this and stood by me
the entire time. I made it thru Thanksgiving and didn’t gain a pound.
December is here, yet again
another month for a family feast. This time I was not all that worried about
it. I ate pie for dessert on Christmas and that was not a good idea at the
time. I ended up getting very sick from the sugar. I threw up almost as soon as
I was done with the last bite. It was a very small piece of pie, but sugar was
no longer my friend.
December 12 & 19, 2006 I
weighed 422.
The New Year 2007 is here and
I am stressed out because I am not getting enough protein. I felt like I was
overeating but according to my nutritionist, I am not eating enough in a day.
For my weight, I needed 100 grams of protein in a day. I was getting down about
60 grams of protein a day. All I could do was keep trying.
January 21 & 28, 2007 I
weighed in at 412.
By February 2007 my wound was
finally closed. I was very happy about this. It looked like I had a second
belly button now that it was closed. When I have a tummy tuck done, it will be
my new belly button. The hanging skin is starting to bother me. The more I
loose the more skin I have hanging. I look in the mirror and I still can’t see
this smaller person. I decided it is time to get some therapy. I went into the
mental health department and had a consultation with a doctor that deals with
addictive behavior. I currently see this doctor twice a month and have been
dealing with my desire to eat for no reason. I think about food all the time. I
have anxiety about food and my life. I began taking Prozac and it was a life
saver. The meds along with therapy have helped me more than I can express.
Dealing with the truth about my food addiction was the hardest part of my
weight loss journey. Everyday I get a step closer to eating to live, not living
to eat.
Me at my Biggest with my now ex-husband 2005
One year post weight loss surgery 2007
Truly inspirational. This is your friend Freshley Smith on Facebook. We are both "here but by the grace!" Amen! :D
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