I can hardly believe that I was sleeved three days ago. Obviously it doesn't take me long after I forget the fact, for me to remember that it has happened. I constantly have reminders like constant ache in my upper belly, the five small incisions around my belly, the bruises on my stomach from when the nurses injected me with a blood thinner, and the feeling of nausea that washes over me every so often. Now that it is over and I know that was fortunate not to be one of the few people who has serious complications, I can smile again. That smile was nowhere to be seen on the morning of the surgery - I was a mess! As much as I tried to contain my emotions, I couldn't stop the tears from rolling down my face as I sat in the hospital waiting room.
I don't think I can explain the crazy emotions that were running through my body that morning. It was a strong cocktail mix of being petrified of the immediate risks of surgery, fear of failure, fear of not really knowing how I could live the rest of my life without it revolving around food, guilt for making my parents spend another three days in hospital worrying about me, and shame. Let me try to make some more sense of these feelings.
The surgery is not without significant risk. Although the chance of the risks eventuating after your surgery are low (generally less than 1%), any percentage is still as risk. The most scary of these is the potential for a leak after your stomach is stapled. I tried to manage this risk by researching all the Perth Surgeons in detail and reading lots of forums which discussed the good, the bad and the ugly about surgeons. I know I made the right decision with Dr Jon Armstrong.
Although some of you may believe that having surgery is the easy way out, every bit of information I found prior to signing up to surgery emphasised that it is just a tool. Tools mean that there is no guarantee that it will work, and that means that this could be a failure. For me this is a last result, so failure is not an option.
I am of Middle Eastern/English decent. If you don't know anything about Middle Eastern people, let me tell you now, it is always about food. ALWAYS! Life genuinely revolves around sharing food. It is how we show appreciation and love, it is how we show respect and mourn, it how we show support and how we bond. It is always about food!
We have spent a lot of time in hospital over the last few years, because my dad has been pretty unwell. He is slowly on the mend but we have just had the first few months of not needing to go to hospital on a daily/weekly basis. We genuinely hate driving into hospitals at the best of times now. As such, knowing that my parents were now going to have to take their youngest daughter into hospital and wait for me to come out of this ok, made me feel pretty guilty, but I knew that I really needed their support with this decision.
Shame. It was not an emotion I felt so strongly at the beginning of this process, but there have been two times that i distinctly felt it. The first was when I had to sign the admission papers the week before the surgery. I had to sign that I was "hereby admitting myself into hospital for gastric sleeve surgery" as a result of being diagnosed with "morbid obesity". The second time I really felt this was when I was waiting in the hospital waiting room with everyone else, waiting for my name to be called out. I just kept thinking how everyone else must have been there waiting for life saving surgery, to remove a cancer, repair a broken bone, anything but having weight loss surgery. I am over the guilt again :) This was my life changing surgery, and I deserved another chance at life.
So here is my dilemma. I thought I would write to you about all the things I went through, but the truth is that from the moment I walked into the hospital, to the moment I walked out today, everything seems to have sped by. It is a blur. Somewhere within the blur is the memory of constant nausea (which today has left me alone), daily injections in my belly and legs (blood thinner and anti-nausea), a constant sore tummy (which is getting better), the constant beeping of my IV line, a lack of hunger (I had three days of water and ice before graduating onto 200ml of apple juice sipped slowly over 8 hours last night), my beautiful parents faces, the faces of so many of supportive friends, and the smell of so many beautiful flowers that decorated my room.
What now? I don't know! This is all very strange to me. Today I have managed to eat/drink have 100ml of apple juice, 150ml of diet iced tea with benefibre spooned in, five teaspoons of vegetable soup, and ten sips of protein shakes. Lots of room for improvement I know!
Tomorrow I will briefly explain what supplements and tablets I am now going to be taking for a while. Anyway, I thought I would leave you with some of the pretty flowers I was given while in hospital. They brought a smile to my face each time I saw them :)
You were spoilt! The flowers look lovely ☺
ReplyDeleteI know! Very lucky :) Yours are the beautiful red roses! xx
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