Tag: gastric bypass

Digestive Revolt

I tried to eat dinner without my stop watch tonight and my surgically modified stomach kicked me in the fucking balls for it (figuratively). Hard. Really hard.

I have had two stomach revolts in the six previous weeks. One was due to gas and the other was nausea that cleared itself up after a few minutes. No vomit.

Tonight was worse than those two combined. Gas and nausea. Lots of nausea. There was a very small amount of vomit, but mostly just a ton of saliva. The nausea though. Damn. It’s been about 45 minutes and I’m just starting to calm down. Yikes!

I’m positive it was due to eating too fast. I was trying to see how I’d do without using a stop watch to make sure I wait at least 30 seconds after swallowing a bite before taking another. Clearly my internal clock was cutting corners and this is the result.

I don’t think this was dumping syndrome. It may have been what the folks on the Facebook groups call The Foamies, which is your body trying to help get food into your stomach by ramping up saliva production.

Okay. It’s been 50 minutes. I still don’t feel good but I don’t feel nauseous any more. I think it’s safe to leave the bathroom again.

Wish me luck.

Well That Was Unpleasant

Jen made an excellent dinner tonight. Cod. It was fantastic. I had about four ounces of fish and a piece of potato and a couple of baby carrots. As instructed by the stage III diet class, I ate the protein source first.

About halfway through I had to stop for a few minutes. Either I was going too fast or taking too much in each bite. Same thing happened to me the other day. I took a little break and felt better and was able to keep going.

Not too long after that it hit me. I was taking smaller bites and being more diligent about waiting in between bites but it didn’t help. It happened really fast. My stomach started feeling off again, then it started creeping up higher until it was in my throat. Nausea babie. Lots of it. Everyone who goes through Gastric Bypass says it happens but in three weeks plus it hadn’t happened to me… but now it has. I basically had to dash to the bathroom.

I did not throw up. I thought I was going to. I was sure I was going to. After a few minutes of gazing longingly into the bowl the feeling started to pass. I stayed there for an extra few minutes before risking standing up straight. Then I stayed in the bathroom for another few minutes, just in case.

I have been keeping a food/drink journal since the first night in the hospital. The sheet has a column for levels of nausea. I’ve had a zero in that column for every entry in the log… until now. I gave it an eight because it was crazy intense but I didn’t actually spew.

I feel a ton better now, but I am totally gun shy. I’m not sure how I will react tomorrow. I’m thinking of significantly smaller bites to start with. I really don’t want to go through that again.

Tough Start Today

We were told to make sure we take small bites of food when we start learning to eat again. I think I just found out why.

I made scrambled eggs for breakfast. I’ve had scrambled eggs for breakfast more days than not over the last two weeks. I try to wait about a minute in between bites. That’s longer than they suggested to us, by a lot, but it’s worked for me so far so I keep doing it.

I’m not sure if I was going to fast or just eating too much at once or some combination of both, but after a while my insides just told me, in no uncertain terms, to stop. Cut the shit, man. Leave us alone.

I didn’t feel sick, per se. I didn’t feel full. I didn’t feel nauseous. It’s hard to describe. It was almost like there was a backup getting into my tiny new stomach. Like, imagine there was a traffic jam and there was a forkful of scrambled egg just waiting for it to clear so that it could pull into the stomach. It was sort of like that… I guess.

I put down my tiny little plate of eggs and just waited. I think it was about 15 minutes. That weird backed up feeling cleared and I started trying to eat again. This time taking much, much smaller bites. Everything went okay from that point, though I am feeling kinda full right now.

We’ll see how lunch goes. Wish me luck.

One Week and One Day

Okay. The weight loss surgery date is one week from tomorrow. It’s hitting me. Or at least it’s starting to, and it’s coming from directions I did not expect.

I’m putting together notes for co-workers so they can cover some of my regular responsibilities while I’m out for a whole month. The result is feelings of guilt. Big time feelings of guilt. Not the soul destroying guilt I was buried under a year ago when things were going really bad at my parents house, but a new, fresh, form of guilt.

Guilt over all of the things I won’t be able to do at home until after I recover. Guilt for the burden I am going to be on Jen and Harry and (eventually) Bellana. Even guilt over needing to finish the cellar before the surgery date and therefore putting the contractor into a position where he felt he needed to stay at our house working until 10:00 last night, and 9:30 one night last week.

I did not see this coming, but here it is.

Shit.

Something Else to Fail At

I wasn’t going to write about this until it was all over at some point in the far off future, but I’m going to fail at it the way I fail at most things so why not share?

On Monday November 8th I viewed an orientation video for weight loss surgery at Lowell General Hospital. I spoke to my insurance company to make sure the procedure would be covered and I submitted a form to request an initial appointment. The form said to expect a response in five business days. That was six business days ago.

Sure it’s only one day over… I’m sure they are just busy. I’m sure it’s not the universe trying to convince me to wuss out and not mutilate myself in the name of healthier living. I’m sure I’ll be fine the way I am, right up until the heart attack ends me before I’m sixty.

Fuck.