Well hello world again! Here is part 3 of my story about my weight loss surgery. Another thanks to all the support I have received and the promises of donations which will help get the forum up and running. Part 3 will be looking at my first weeks recovery. I finished part 2 with me waking up and finding out that the surgery had all gone well.
I have very vague memories of the first few hours after the surgery. I remember panicking because I had no word that my mum had been told I was ok, it later transpired that when she had tried to find out she had been told I was still in surgery when actually I had been in recovery for quite some time. To this day I wish I had been able to get the message to her that I was ok as I know how scared she was thinking I was still being operated on and thinking something must have gone wrong. Eventually I was moved to the High Dependency Unit where I had a wonderful nurse who was there the whole time. I was told I would probably be in there for 24 hours as my Oxygen level needed to be 100% before I could go down to the ward. This actually took a lot less time and I was already getting impatient!! I had stomach drains in which were removed and a tube down my throat. I have a very sensitive gag reflex and the nurse made me wiggle my toes while she removed the tube which was a great idea as I hardly noticed the tube being removed. I was not allowed to drink or eat anything and while I had no appetite so food was the last thing on my mind, my mouth was so dry, mainly due to the oxygen mask. I was given these things that were essentially a bit of sponge on a stick which I was told I could use to wet my lips. I actually dipped them in water and sucked on them!!
I was on Morphine which was in a syringe next to me and I could press the button every few minutes to administer it. I was very aware that this was an extremely strong drug and I was scared of becoming addicted to it. I knew I needed it to begin with and so I used it regularly in the first day and night. I had promised myself though that I would come off it as soon as possible. At one point I was offered some paracetamol which I said yes to, unfortunately I did not think this through..as I could not eat or drink anything they had to be administered differently so as the nursed helped me turn over and moved the rear of my hospital gown and I closed my eyes and swore that I would not say yes to the painkillers again!!
Once everyone was happy that my Oxygen levels were ok then I was collected from the HDU to go to the ward. From my memory it took four people to move me which was pretty humiliating. No comments were made though and the porters and nurses took it in their stride. It was at this point I met my physio who was fab, he made me laugh (which hurt) and this really helped me to not dwell on what was happening. Once on the ward I relaxed a bit more as I knew now I was going to be ok and that it was now I could start looking at my future.
I have managed to see the funny side in the things that happened over the next few days. In fact I think it is my humour that got me through that first week and still gets me through tough times even now. So I urge you not to read this and feel sorry for me but please do laugh, if you think it is bad then just remember that this was what was to lead to me having my life back and being who am I now. To be able to understand why these things were worse for me than perhaps they would be for others you need to think about the fact that I was 32 stone, 21 years old and so self-conscious about my body and embarrassed by it, that I was covered from neck to ankle and did not let anyone near me. Of course this is not exactly what happens when you are in hospital following major surgery and not able to move. To begin with I was given bed baths which was bad enough but after a couple of days I was taken in to the shower room and washed in there. This gave me mixed feelings, I found it hard because of my insecurities but I felt so nice to feel clean and the nurses were simply amazing, taking everything in their stride. Probably the worst bit which I do laugh about now was the fact that because of my weight I had been given high doses of blood thinners to ensure the risk of clots was tiny. I remember one morning deciding to sit in the chair by my bed, after a great struggle to get up and move I managed to get myself perched on the edge of the chair, I then happened to notice some blood on the floor. With horror I realised it was coming from me!! I called the nurse who kindly explained that the blood thinners had brought on my period which apparently is quite common following surgery!! The trouble I had was a) I could not bend down to sort myself out so the nurses had to clean me and put pads on and b) the blood thinners made it pour out!! If you are wondering why I am sharing this with you then it is simple, this is for information and it might sound bad but the staff were so great I just got on with things.
The only real complication I had in hospital was that my veins kept collapsing. This did not happen straight away. I was on a drip to ensure I didn’t get dehydrated as I still could not have anything to drink. I remember my left hand started to tingle and when I looked at it it resembled a ball! With my fingers spread apart the skin still touched. I called a nurse who took the drip out and explained that the vein it had been in had collapsed and so my hand had been filling with fluid! Not to worry though they said they would just pop the drip in to another vein, trouble was all my other veins either went in to hiding or when one was found it collapsed too. At one point they tried a vein in between my toes, I remember hoping that would not work as it would mean walking to the toilet would be impossible and put my recovery back further, luckily after an hour or so and my body looking like a bruised pin cushion they found a vein the back of my hand again!
There are hundreds of little stories about my week in hospital but to be honest this is a blog not a book so I will cut it a bit shorter. By the end of my second day on the ward I was sick of the Morphine, it made me feel and sound drunk and I could not stay awake, on the other hand I only slept for a few minutes at a time. It was then I decided that I really did not need it. I was seriously uncomfortable but I was not in pain so I just stopped pressing the button. This was not something the nurses or doctors really understood they kept telling me to take it but I stood my ground and by the next day felt much more myself. When I phoned my best friend she said “oh you sound better I can understand what you are saying now”. I knew I had to reach certain goals to be able to go home, and I really really wanted to be at home so I set my mind to reaching these goals. The first was that I had to be able to walk to the toilet. I had a catheter in so I didn’t actually need a wee but I decided to make myself walk the distance. It took ages but I did it, I could not stand straight as my surgery had cut me from my belly button to my breast bone and so I was hunched over ensuring that the 42 staples I had down my body were not stretched. It was a difficult walk and exhausting but it was not impossible. In fact nothing seemed impossible to me anymore. Once I did that walk there was no stopping me.
Later that night I wanted to talk to my Dad but I didnt want to disturb anyone on the ward. I figured there would be a phone in the day room on the next ward so quietly I got out of bed, put my dressing gown round me and started out. I think it took me nearly 30 mins to get there and I was grateful to the rails along the corridors which I held on to as though my life depended on it. When I finally got there I found there was actually no phone so I sat and watched ER and then headed back. I got caught by the night nurses who wanted to know where I had been, I am still not sure if they believed me. I had been told it could take 4-6 weeks before I would be able to walk the distance I just had but I did it after a few days. My determination to recover, not be a burden on people and to ensure I did not become bed bound over powered everything else.
The next day my vein in my hand collapsed again but this time I begged them not to put the drip back in. I struck a deal with the nurses. I was about to have a scan done to check my stomach had sealed. If everything was ok I would be allowed food and drink. So I said if everything is ok I will promise to sip plenty of water but if there was a problem then they could put the drip back in. They agreed all though a little reluctantly. The scan was done in the x-ray room. Basically I had to stand on a platform with a machine around me. I had some dye that I had to drink which would show any leaks etc on the scan. This was the first thing I had had to drink in nearly a week, it was a thick aniseed liquid with a strange Orange taste. I HATE aniseed, the smell and the taste make me heave and I had to gulp this down, so I stood there on this platform with the drink in one hand and a bowl in the other in case I was sick!! Luckily everything was ok and the good news was that my stomach had sealed…I was nearly ready to go home!
Once back on the ward mum brought me a smooth yoghurt to eat as all food would have to be pureed for a month or so. I was not really interested in food at all, for the first time in my life I was not feeling hungry and had no appetite, I had a little of the yoghurt but mainly focused on drinking water. I had to wait for my physio to visit before I could go home, he arrived late in the afternoon and was happy for me to leave but not till the following day. In reality it was getting to late to drive back to Norwich anyway but now I knew I could be at home I just wanted to get out, that night dragged on and on. By the morning my bags were packed, my catheter was out and I was ready to leave. I had a pillow to protect my wound in the car and actually the journey went much better than I thought.
Back at home I was more relaxed, I was back with all my family in a place I felt safe but I didnt want to relax too much, I needed to get better. In 6 more weeks I would be due back at Uni! My family were as they always have been, truly amazing and really rallied round. Mum was fantastic, she went back to work but luckily this meant she was only next door and would check in on me frequently. She pureed all my food, cooked it, brought it to me, did my washing, literally everything that I could not do she did and I will always be eternally grateful for that. I had to go back to the hospital 4 weeks later so in my mind it was all systems go, I would be going on the train and I was determined to be ok for it.
Well I will leave Part 3 here and will update with part 4 very soon. Thanks for reading it and please feel free to leave comments. I am still doing my prep and research for the new forum but will hopefully be able to officially release the name next week and will keep you updated with the progress. If you would like to make a small donation to the set up of the forum please get in touch. Feel free to email me at lozza_lou@hotmail.com Take Care everyone and Keep checking for updates, your support means everything to me.
Article Source: The Real Me Part 3
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