Tag: bariatric surgery

Stomach Dance

Me and my stomach have been doing that gastric bypass patient dance all day today. We’re having trouble getting along. We need to work together but today we’re causing problems for each other.

I have eaten three meals. Each meal came with a stomach problem of varying degrees.

I had a protein bar for breakfast. I went a little too fast and felt that blocked/stuck feeling. It wasn’t bad enough to become nausea or to produce large amounts of extra saliva that I have to spit out. I tried gagging it up but nothing came. I had to pause eating for about half an hour before the blockage was gone and then I was able to finish.

I had a burger (cooked on the grill) and some french fries for lunch. The burger went down without any issues. The fries though. I only had about four of them and I should have stopped at three. I felt a little blocked again. I think I was going too fast this time as well. It was never bad enough to require any spitting up. I don’t know how long it took to pass, but it wasn’t long. As soon as I declared myself done with lunch I was off to my father’s so it was probably a couple of hours before I even thought about eating or drinking anything else.

I had a big piece of chicken and a little bit of white rice for dinner. Well, it was big for me. about three ounces. The chicken went down fine. The rice felt a little off. I only had two small fork fulls. I was okay afterward though. I stopped in time to avoid any problems. When I finished dinner I was a smidge below my daily protein goal. I waited about 20 minutes and then had a little tiny protein bar snack. It went bad. I think this time I took too big a bite and it got stuck for real. I gagged up a tiny bit of it and have been spitting out saliva for about half an hour now.

So there we have it. All summed up. Three meals, three stomach issues. Yippee. My doctor told me that in almost every case when there is a stomach problem after eating it’s really the patient’s fault. In all three cases this was my fault. It actually makes me feel better knowing that. If it’s something I did rather than something going on with my new stomach, then it’s something I can control.

220 pounds lost since the surgery. Yeah, these sort of things are 100% worth it. Absolutely.

Soup

Tonight my dinner was the universally accepted dinner for people with a bad cold. Campbell’s Chicken Noodle Soup. It was lovely, though it did bring up a question for me.

I am less than two months away from the two year anniversary of my gastric bypass surgery. Things are going well. I haven’t had dumping syndrome once and I have lost over 200 pounds. Huzzah, babie. Life is good.

There are rules that those of us who have gone through the full gastric bypass have to follow. Two in particular. First, if you have something to drink you need to wait 15 minutes before you can have something to eat. Second, similarly, if you have something to eat you have to wait a whole hour before you have something to drink.

Easy peezy, lemon squeezy.

What about soup though? I had a great big bowl of soup tonight and it was delicious and it cleared my stuffy head a little. As I was lapping up the broth I had a moment where I questioned everything. I just ate the chicken and the noodles, should I wait an hour before I drink the broth? I had a spoonful of broth as my first taste of dinner, should I have waited 15 minutes before I ate the chicken and the noodles? Putting it simply, does soup count as a food or a drink? I was lead to believe that one meal could not count as both, so which is it? Should soup be off limits? I chose to count it as food but is that an incorrect choice?

One other, unrelated, rule that I have to follow in this post surgery world is no alcohol. Does that mean I cannot have a dose of NyQuil to help combat my cold symptoms and to help me sleep at night? I am pretty sure NyQuil lives on the no fly list for that reason. I was going to have some tonight but I have decided to error on the side of caution and skip it.

Oh, what a fascinating new world is this post surgery life. Fascinating indeed.

Meeces to Pieces

It’s time for our two new cats to prove their worth to the household. Yesterday we started seeing clear signs that they were stalking something. The hunt was on. Last night Harry got a brief glimpse: a mouse. Later, Jen and I also saw it hiding in a tiny space between a cabinet and a wall. I tried getting it with a broom but failed miserably.

The cats were hyper vigilant throughout the night but haven’t had any success yet. There was a moment this morning where I heard them attacking from the next room, and also heard their prey squeaking in terror. I felt kinda bad, but that’s the price you pay for invading our home.

The cats have two responsibilities in this house. One is to be adorable and let us pet them and snuggle them. The other is to eliminate small furry invaders. It’s time to hold up your end of the bargain, Robin and Lily. I have full confidence in your mousing abilities. Make Daddy proud, girls.

No problems last night as far as stomach pain goes. I was a little nervous before bed. I was a little queasy. Not bad, but just aware that I wasn’t at 100%. I was also so thoroughly exhausted that I couldn’t really think straight. I turned in at about 11:00 but I forgot to clean out my CPAP mask so I went to sleep without it. I woke up at about 3:30. My first thought was, here we go again. Then I realized what woke me up. It wasn’t in my stomach, it was on my stomach. Miss Lily had jumped on me and was very insistent about showing me some affection. I gave her what she wanted. She doesn’t really show me any attention like that, so I wasn’t about to say no.

Once she had her fill I tried going back to sleep, but I was pretty much awake. I just sort of laid there for a while, then I got up and got a new CPAP mask out of my closet. I had to deal with Miss Robin who ran inside while I had the door open and wouldn’t come out. I swapped out the drool’d in mask for the new, clean one and went back to bed. I got to listen to an attack on the mouse before I fell asleep. My alarm was set for 7:00am but I snoozed it until a little before 8:00. So the good news is, no stomach issues or anything health related. The bad news is I didn’t sleep through the night the way I was hoping. The lesser good news is that I did snag about seven hours of sleep that I very much needed, though I am still feeling really tired this morning.

Here’s hoping tonight continues to show improvement.

I was afraid of this. I have fully committed myself to binge watching all of Star Wars The Clone Wars. There are 133 episodes. It’s going to take a while. I know I tried doing this once before but fell off the wagon very early. Why? What stopped me?

During this morning’s faux jog (pronounced, yog) I found out. Season one, episode eight… the entire episode focuses on Jar Jar and it is just as insufferably awful as you would expect. I made it through without vomiting but it did sap my re-watching enthusiasm by about 65%. Oh well. Maybe I’ll go back to the X-Files for a couple of days.

If I don’t get a haircut today I am going to go insane. Just warning you. Ya know, in case I start posting things that are more insane than normal. If I do, you’ll know why.

Not Bad, Just Weird

So last night. It wasn’t bad, it was just weird. Weird in that I haven’t experienced anything quite like it before, but also in the way that it mirrored the bad time from the night before without actually being all that bad.

I went to bed at around 10:30 and dropped off to sleep pretty much instantly. After the mess that was Wednesday night, that was all I had hoped for. I woke up around 1:00am feeling a bit nauseous. I actually spit up into my CPAP mask, just a little bit. I guess my fears about wearing it the night before we justified? I got to the bathroom, spit up a little more, and felt better. I never vomited and the nausea passed quickly. In it’s wake was some gas pain. That scared me. Any pain in the stomach would, after all of the crap from Wednesday. Unlike Wednesday though I was able to lay back down without getting worse and I actually went back to sleep for half an hour or so.

I woke up again and the pain in my stomach was worse, but still not like the night before. It felt like gas still, but it also felt like hunger. I got up for a tiny little snack and brought it back to the bedroom and had it. When I did that on Wednesday I immediately knew that it wasn’t going to help. Last night I didn’t have that feeling. It may have helped a little, but really burping helped more.

I sat up in bed for a little while, then went back to the bathroom, which I also did on Wednesday night, but that didn’t help. The pain was there, but it was never even remotely as bad as the night before. Wednesday was probably a 6-7 on the pain scale from 1-10. Thursday was maybe a 3-4. I was still burping and farting a lot and I was afraid I was going to wake Jen with all the racket so, like Wednesday, I went out to the living room.

This was the point where things went out of control on Wednesday. I was a little afraid of a repeat, but pretty sure it wasn’t going to happen. I was able to lay down on the couch, which I couldn’t do the night before, and I actually fell asleep again. I didn’t have my CPAP machine so I would sleep for a little while then wake up then repeat. At 4:30 or so Jen came out looking for me and I reassured her that apart from some gas I was fine. She asked if I could go back to bed and I did. I changed my alarm from 5:00am (for yogging purposes) to 7:00am to help with the exhaustion a little. I didn’t put my CPAP machine on because of the drool factor. I need to clean that sucker tonight. I slept until about 6:00 and then just drifted between dozing and awake until 7:00.

So all in all it wasn’t a bad night, just weird. I could have stayed in bed the whole time but I was afraid I would make too much noise and wake up my dearest. I really wanted her to have a good night’s sleep. I messed her sleep up the night before and I absolutely did not want to do that again.

Tonight? I guess we’ll have to see. I am thinking about sunrise photos at Salisbury Beach tomorrow so hopefully I’ll get a good sleep before waking up stupidly early in the morning. We’ll see how it goes, I guess. I am sure it will be fine.

Train Wreck of a Night

I saw it coming this time but I still couldn’t get out of the way. For the second time in about three weeks I found myself fetal on the floor, moaning in stomach pain. Hooray.

I went to sleep last night at a little after 11:00pm, which was two hours later than I wanted to, but that’s my fault, not my stomach’s. I could have gone to sleep earlier, but I wanted to play a little Jedi Survivor, and then I had to wait a whole hour for it to install. Not a big deal.

I had a snack just before turning in for the night. My theory was the first fetal on the floor experience was down to an empty stomach. I now know it wasn’t, but that was the theory at least. A few minutes after I finished the snack I started feeling some stomach discomfort. Not outright pain, just enough of something to know that something was wrong. Like I said, I saw this train coming miles away. I got into bed and went to sleep though.

About 12:30am I woke up. Just like last time, it was my bladder that woke me up, not my stomach. By the time I was done in the bathroom though, my stomach was a thing. I went out to the living room to eat the smallest protein snack I have. I took one bite and knew that this time it wasn’t hunger. It just kept getting worse. The pain was bad, but it wasn’t the end of the world. Maybe a six on the pain scale from one to 10. Enough to suck, but not debilitating. No, the worst part was the inability to get any relief from it. Sitting down made it worse. Laying down made it worse. Standing up made it worse. Walking around made it worse. I ended up doubled over no matter what I was doing.

The first time I went through something like this I ended up getting a tiny bit of relief from curling up in a ball on the living room floor and moaning a lot. This time I was in the cellar because last time I woke Jen up with all the moaning and a groaning and I was hoping to not do that again. So I curled up in a ball on the cold cellar floor and it helped a tiny bit. I also found myself moaning again. I don’t think it was a conscious choice, you know? It just sort of happened. That helped a tiny bit too. Something about the way I was pushing air out? Like a good woodwind player I was pushing the air out from my diaphragm and clenching up my stomach a bit and yeah, it helped. The two things together lowered the pain by maybe 0.1% or so. Barely noticeable, but still kinda helpful.

In the end I failed to keep Jen asleep. She woke up and wanted to call an ambulance to take me to the ER. I protested mightily. I feel like I know what was happening and I just needed to ride it out. She was getting frustrated with me and I don’t blame her. She kept telling me that I would be dragging her to the ER if our roles were reversed and, as always, she was 100% right. I would have done exactly that. I guess I am just a really bad patient. I apologized profusely for being so stubborn and tried to express just how thankful I was for her concern and how much it meant to me. It really did. I love her so much, I am sorry I was such a tool.

The funny thing was, we were yelling back and forth through the cellar door (cats are not allowed in the cellar, ever since I caught them clawing at the central air ducts) and our inability to communicate effectively resulted in me coming up stairs. Wouldn’t you know it, as soon as we were in the room together I started to feel better. I was sitting on the couch talking to her and the pain was suddenly very tolerable and manageable. We talked through the situation together for a little while and then she went back to bed and I was able to lay down on the couch and sleep. I didn’t get up early for my morning yogging and I slept as late as I could. I’ll have to fill in the exercise in spurts throughout the work day. That’s not a big deal.

I have had eight ounces of lemonade and my morning vitamins. My stomach has played along nicely so far, but I am super seriously gun shy this morning. I’m afraid to eat something, though I am going to try in about 15 minutes. We’ll see how it goes, but I am behind schedule on my food and drink goals and I would not be surprised if I miss them both today. I will be okay with that if I can avoid any further pain and suffering.

As with the first time, I assume something I ate last night caused all of this. We had Chinese take out for dinner. I only ate a couple of boneless chicken fingers (my favorite) and I wonder if there was something in the batter or the breading that set me off. It’s the only candidate that makes sense. I want to call the weight loss clinic and see if they have any advice on how to handle this if it happens again. I am going to bet that they will say to just ride it out. It was something like 2.5-3 hours last night and it sucked but I made it through okay. Here’s hoping it doesn’t happen again any time soon.

One Year of Mirror Selfies

Selfie is kind of a theme today. Here is the first of hopefully two short videos from selfie a day apps taken between May 4, 2022 and May 4, 2023.

It’s almost like we’re watching me melt.

One Year Anniversary Weigh In

I think I may have mentioned that today is the first anniversary of my gastric bypass surgery. Have I dropped that factoid onto the blog yet today? I think I have.

To summarize the results of yesterday’s weigh in (again), my most recent goal was to get below 205 pounds because that would put my BMI below 25. A BMI of 25 and up means you are overweight. A BMI of less than 25 means you are at a normal weight. I haven’t been at a healthy weight at any moment during my adult life, and possibly at any moment in my entire life as a whole.

Last week’s weigh in (week 51) had me at 205.6 pounds. So very close to that overweight/healthy weight line. Yesterday’s weigh in (week 52) messed up that good vibe by coming in at 206.6. I joked in the post about maybe magically losing 1.7 pounds in one day and hitting that goal on my first anniversary. It really was a joke. I promise.

Guess what happened. Go on and guess.

I got up at a little before 6:00am and stepped on the scale. The number made me laugh. I stepped off, reset the scale to zero and stepped back on and got exactly the same result.

204.8. Down 1.8 pounds from yesterday. From yesterday. Ladies and gentlemen… for the first time in my adult life… and coincidently on the anniversary of my weight loss surgery… My BMI is below 25, implying that I am at a healthy weight.

How friggin’ hysterical is that? I joked about it yesterday and it actually happened today. Who writes this shit, right?

I have lost 226.6 pounds in the last year, and 247.2 pounds since the first weigh in on January 19, 2022. I can’t even believe it. My mind is blown. Totally.

So now what? I’ve tracked my weight pretty religiously every Wednesday and the 4th of every month for a full year. Can I stop now? I don’t know. Does the weekly weigh in count as part of my routine in such a way that I should keep doing it because I am a creature of habit and sticking to the routine has worked for me this far so I should do it? Should I stop the Wednesdays and just do the monthlies? I don’t know. I might wait until Wednesday morning before making a decision and just see what happens.

As far as goals are concerned, my general goal was just to feel healthier and not feel like I was dying 24 hours a day. That’s how I felt back in January of 2022 when this started. More specific goals didn’t really exist at first. I wanted to be under 400 pounds. I achieved that on May 16, 2022. That changed my goal to being under 300 pounds. I achieved that on September 21, 2022. I think it was in October or November when I publicly said my new goal was to have my BMI under 25, but I did the math wrong (like an idiot) and thought I had to get down to 190 pounds. The BMI goal superseded the sub 200 goal because the idea of hitting either one was so absurd that they didn’t seem realistic.

Now? I guess the goal is to stay below 205 pounds. Beyond that, hitting “Onederland” is the next pie in the sky goal. Onederland being what folks on the bariatric surgery Facebook groups call the magical moment when you drop below 200 pounds. I’m less than five pounds away, but it’s taken me months to get to 205 from the point where I first leveled off, around 216. It could take a while… or not. Who the hell knows?

For now though, let’s just focus on the happy anniversary of it all. 365 days and 220+ pounds. It’s so unbelievable I kinda want to throw up. This is beyond my wildest dreams. Thanks for hanging out with me and reading my stupid weight loss posts. I appreciate you coming along for the ride.

Patch Rabbit

One year ago today, my beloved wife Jennifer without whom I never would have been able to get through any of the challenges of the past year brought me a cute little stuffed bunny to keep me company on my overnight in the hospital. It was the same color as our cat Patches, and she named it Patch Rabbit.

Patch Rabbit sat with me through the entire month of recovery that followed the surgery, and since then she has been sitting on the window sill next to my desk in the cellar office. I just thought I should include my bunny friend in the anniversary celebration by using her for today’s photo-a-day challenge.

246/365
246/365

Before and After

Before (May 4, 2022):

After (May 4, 2023):

I still have the pair of jeans you see in the before photo. I might put them on and take a bonus mirror selfie, just for laughs. I mean, that is literally the reason I never got rid of those pants.

These pics are screen shots from one of two selfie-a-day apps I have been using. The plan was to take a selfie a day for the first year, then upgrade the apps to the paid versions and save off a video of all of the pictures. I will do that today and upload the videos here. I failed to take a shot a day. Failed miserably in fact. I think I have around 300 pics in both apps. We’ll see how they look.

In closing, when I typed the title of this post the song of the same name from the very first Rush album, released 49 years ago, popped into my head and I am hoping it will stay there for a while.