CJ_Redux

It gets better!!! You will be able to eat much more kinds of food before you know it! I had my sleeve 4-24-12 and I don't regret it at all. Down 75 pounds!

You had surgery on June 27th and you're eating mushies already??? I am soooooo jealous...

I suppose it was kind of easy for me. I just stayed away from family get-togethers. But the reason I didn't go is because of menstral stomach cramps. I've just been laying around all day, drinking my juices and Water and Protein shakes. I haven't smelled any BBQ, so I haven't missed it.
Now that darn Olive Garden commercial where they keep showing the creamy Pasta slipping and sliding onto the plate? That's another story entirely!

While most of the junk that we're supposed to stay away from are sliders, so too are a lot of good foods - many of the fruits and veg that help us get in the nutrition that we need, either now or as we move to maintenance mode. While my typical capacity for firm Proteins like meats is about 3 oz (and continues to be a year + post op) my capacity for combinations of meat and veg in the form of meat and veg salads, stir frys or stews is more like 6 oz - so a lot more nutrition added for very little added calories.
Use your sliders for good, not evil!

Same here. I'm now 11 days post op and I can drink a lot better also. I figured it was just my stomach healing (ie, swelling going down) so naturally I'd be able to get a bit more in without restriction.
Sounds like we're probably all keeping pace with what should be happening.

This girl has!! ME!! and what a onederful feeling it is!! I'm 2 days shy of my 10 week mark!!

Congratulations. I love to hear feedback like this about the sleeve. I can't wait until I am sleeved as well. Hey I'm a guy, but I guarantee I will have some of those tears of joy as well. LOL...Thanks so much for sharing!

I can't tell you how many times I've teared up in dressing rooms @stores, or when I pull out some smaller sizes I packed away eight years ago in my twenties. Now I make sure to bring Kleenex with me so I don't blubber all over the merchandise and look like a clown walking out!

Tears of joy! Why are my emotions tied so closely to my weight??? I got on the scale today and it said 179! The last time i remember being happy with myself was almost 15 years ago when i was in the 170s. Still have 30lbs to goal but feeling so positive. I think my mom would be so proud of me!

Hello! Hello!! Hello!!! To all my wonderful sleeve peeps! :wub:
Well, I made it to the other side of VSG surgery and lived to tell about it! Some of you may have read my 'worry woes' pre-op. If not, you can read them here. The nerves lasted right up until I went under...even was scared afterwards. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me 'splain it all below...
Part 1: Before surgery...
So I get to Tijuana uneventfully. Cecy (Dr. Kelly's wife) promptly picked me up from the airport. As with others, she gave me a brief tour of parts of San Diego (the pier, historic old town, convention center, etc.) before we headed for the border. Crossing into Mexico was a breeze. Once in TJ, I was taken to Hospital Angeles for chest x-rays. Nice hospital, and we were in and out pretty quickly.
From there, she gave me another brief tour of the beach in TJ. Wow...was nice. But I love all things Water (lake, sea, ocean, doesn't matter). There's something so calming for me when I'm near the Water. We also drove past the arena where they (used to) do the bullfighting. Cecy said it doesn't happen so much anymore. After that, we headed to the Oasis Hospital, where I was to have surgery. I look at the room...eh, nothing to write home about. It's just a room. I suppose by that time it was about 5pm.
Side note: I was supposed to have surgery at 2pm, after arriving in San Diego at 9:30am. However, my first flight to Denver arrived late, so I missed my connection. I had to be re-routed to Oakland, then to San Diego. Mind you, I hadn't eaten since the night before. Argh!!!
Anyhoo, so it's about 5(ish) pm when we get to Oasis Hospital. I meet with the cardiologist (can't recall his name). He takes my bp...it's high (150/96), and I'm surprised by that because it's not normally that high. I am generally at 120/80. So I start to tell him of my surprise and he says to hold on, he'll take it again. The first time was with the automatic pressure machine. The second time, he takes it by hand...it's the same. He asks if, perhaps due to my PCOS, I'm on a medication like Coumadin (sp?). No. "Anything?" he asks. Nope, I reply. I don't take ANY medications. Unable to determine the cause of my elevated bp, he merely shrugs it off and says it could be related to the stress of traveling, and nerves. This doesn't really satisfy me, but ok. He does the EKG and asks if I have any questions. Uhhh yeah! Am I ok to have this surgery with an elevated bp??? He says it's not a problem...
After that, the nurses start putting the compression stockings on me and I'm like, whoa! Wait a minute!!! This is getting really real! I start asking myself, "Are you really gonna do this?" "Have I made my peace with God??" "If I die, it will kill my mother." As I'm laying there, these thoughts going through my mind, tears start to roll from my eyes down the sides of my face. I realize that I have to be willing to die in order to live. One of the nurses seeing my tears, comforts me...en espanol. At that moment I think, "Maybe I shouldn't have come alone..."
Before I can complete that thought, Dr. Kelly enters the room to introduce himself. Omar, the patient coordinator with whom I've had much phone and text communication, is with him. I immediately ask the doctor about my elevated bp and he tells me not to worry. They are going to give me something that will bring it down. He assures me I'm ok for surgery, since I have no other co-morbidities. He leaves to go prep for surgery.
Omar stays behind to chat a bit and tells me I don't need to worry. "Yeah, but I am," I say. He assures me I'm gonna be ok, but then says, "If you're really not sure. You can call this off right now. You don't have to go forward. We want you to be extremely sure, so it's ok if you decide not to go forward." In a strange way, this puts me slightly at ease. I realize, this is my CHOICE. I have the power here, no one else. In life, we have to make decisions. I did my best to research this solution, and before it, i did my best to be my best. If this is where my life's journey has led me, then so be it. I make my peace with God that either I'll see Him on the other side, or I'll begin my life anew in this realm. So be it.
At this point, probably because I've somewhat resolved that my fate is my fate, I realize no one's even asked for payment yet! So while Omar is yapping away, i just bust out and share that information with him. "I mean, it's fine by me if y'all wanna do this surgery for free, but I don't think that's the case..." He bucks up and hands me my purse pronto!
Now it's time to head to the OR...oh Lord! So soon??? Geez, this is all happening too fast! I ask Omar the time, it's around 6:00pm now. We head down a long corridor, me being wheeled on my operating bed, looking up at everyone speaking spanish above me. Okaaayyyy, what the HELL am I doing???
We enter the OR, a bright spacious room. I notice a TV. I guess that should be there, since they are doing the surgery laparoscopically. Then I notice a stereo. I ask the gentleman standing next to me if they plan on rocking out while performing my surgery. He nods his head. "Don't worry" he says, after noticing what I'm sure was a horrified look on my face. Good Lord...
Everyone is scurrying about. The anesthesiologist introduces himself and before I know it, he's pulled down my gown to place electrodes on my chest and...oops! There's my boob, in plain sight for everyone to see! I know he has to do this in order to place the electrodes, but...,embarassing!!! LOL!
On the other side of me, someone outstretches my arm and begins to strap it to an extended arm pad. Then, he walks around to the other side and does the other arm. I realize I'm in the sacrificial position of Christ on the cross.
I'm just now realizing the irony of that...
Next, the anesthesiologist informs me he's giving me something to help me "relax". Uh-oh! I know what that means!!! Lights out! My nerves kick into high gear. It's crunch time! I feel the drug and man-o-shevits I start fighting it! I fight to keep my eyes open--WIDE! "Yust relax..." I hear.
Wait a minute! I'm not ready... Oh God!, I think in my head. So much for all that "I made my peace" mumbo jumbo!!
Is...is that woman on a cell phone over there?? What the hell kinda place is... Next thing I know, I'm waking up in my room!
Part 2: After surgery...
I wake up in my hospital room and it feels like no time at all has passed. I am confused and wonder who the hell are all these people fussing over me, telling me to wake up. Can't they see I'm soooooo tired??? Noooo, leave me alone! I try to yell but can't articulate. I look over, and I see Omar sitting in a recliner in my room, looking at me. I want to say something to him, but once again, it's lights out for me.
When I finally do wake up, it's 2am (I know cuz I asked the nurse who was tending to me). She spoke some English. I immediately began my 48-hour vomit phase. Now, anyone who knows me knows I DO NOT wish to throw up...EVER!!! In fact, I don't do pain or sickness in general well at all. For me, that's always a sign of Armageddon on earth! So me tossing my Cookies repeatedly for 2 days? No. But that's precisely what happened. It started the night of surgery and didn't stop until I was ready to leave the hospital. I asked the nurse for medication. I was flatly told, "No."
WHAT???
OK, surely this...person...didn't understand me! But Omar's now gone. No translation for me tonight. And all night that first night, I threw up. Sure, the nurses kept coming in to check on me and empty my bucket full of vomit. But I didn't get any meds.
By the next morning, the vomiting had slowed...or so I thought. It seemed every time someone came and asked, "How are you feeling?" I'd consider and then respond, "OK." And no sooner than when they'd leave my room I'd get that Oh God, not again feeling. And then the vomiting would continue.
The doctor on call came in eventually and told me I needed to get up to walk as soon as I could. So I did...and then I'd vomit and feel weak. (Damn that hallway was long!!) The next day, Dr. Kelly came as I was walking. When he asked how I was feeling, I told him I had vomited all night and they wouldn't give me any medication. He looked concerned and said if and when I needed it, I could have medicine. I guess he must've went and talked to someone, cuz the next thing I know in comes the nurse with pain and nausea medication.
ALRIGHT!!!
Unfortunately, it didn't help much.
After a while, I just started feeling down. I was sooooo sick. With nothing more to up-chuck, I was dry heaving which is just as bad. It felt like it would never end. Like I'd never feel better again. Like I'd made the wrong decision...
When you're sick, you can't see anything but that sickness...at least that's how I am. Omar, who had stopped by with Dr. Kelly earlier, saw that I was in low spirits. So he did something that REALLY helped me: he brought a previous patient back to the hospital to chat with me.
There was a lady there who had had surgery with Dr. Kelly 2 days prior to me, on Thursday (mine was Saturday). When she came in the room, standing fully erect (I sure couldn't, at that point), happy go-lucky and having been out walking around and shopping...
2 words: I-WAS-FLOORED!!! (OK, that was 3 words... )
I could NOT believe that she had just had surgery. She certainly didn't look like me. And I really wanted to call her a liar. But she was with her mother...and we all know Moms don't lie, right?? It was really amazing to meet her and see her progress. She assured me that she was JUST LIKE ME 2 days prior. That she was sick constantly, that her mother held her vomit bucket as she walked the halls! (Moms are great, aren't they??)
This woman gave me hope, and a newfound motivation that everything would eventually be ok. And you know what? By day 3, it was. By the time I was ready to go to the hotel, I felt about 75% better. While I was still a llittle shaky, there was no more vomiting (thank you Baby Jesus!!).
So we left to go back to Hospital Angeles to take the final leak test. Seeing that clear liquid and knowing everyone says it tastes horrible, I was not wanting to chance it. I just knew I was gonna throw up. But Omar assured me that no one had ever thrown up from the stuff. So, I drank the horrible concoction. And it stayed down. Seeing the Fluid travel thru my hot dog shaped stomach was quite a sight!
No leaks...I was good.
The other 2 days in the hotel were nice. Lucerna Hotel is quite a nice little place. Omar took me to the mall one day, and then to the beach and to Revolucion (a place with a lot of shops for tourists) the next. I decided to spend my last night (night 4) in San Diego, in order to have no problems crossing the border back into the U.S. While crossing into Mexico was a nonevent, coming back took hours! Ugh!
Cecy again drove me back across the border. Dr. Kelly, who was on his way to an appointment on the U.S side, rode with us. So I got a couple of hours to really chat with him. I discovered that not only is he a great surgeon, he's a generally great guy. We chatted politics, travel, insurance in the U.S., plastic surgery...coordinators. He admonished me to stay in touch long term. I sure never got that much from a U.S. doctor!!
Cecy and I also stopped at The Fashion Valley mall in San Diego before going to the hotel. Wow, I LOVE that mall! They've got EVERY store you could think of!!! I can't wait to lose a good chunk of weight. I wanna shop, shop, SHOP!!!
The only downside to crossing the border a day early was that I was put up at the Quality Inn near the airport. I guess it was about the same price as the Lucerna. It certainly wasn't the same quality! I'd consider the Lucerna to be about 3.5 stars, while Quality Inn was about 2.75 stars...that's my opinion anyway. I would stress to everyone that if you're offered this option, you might want to reconsider. The Quality Inn room was shabby. And coming from the Lucerna, it was really a downer. It was livable, but if I had thought about it, if I had considered that the value of the dollar goes a lot farther in TJ, I'd have stayed at the Lucerna and just got up extra early to cross the border on the day of my flight. It would have been worth it. After all, I'd been through enough discomfort by that point.
So now, I'm back at home on day 6. I feel fine, if not a little tired from not getting enough calories. I'm only allowed Gatorade, fruit juice, broth, water and Jello. It's getting old...
But right now, I'm happy. I'm content. I'm grateful. And soooooo optimistic about my future. I am so excited about my next chapter in life. One of my bucket list items after losing weight is to take at least a year off and travel the world. Now that I'm on the road to significant weight loss, that possibility is now very real. And I'm anxious! One thing at a time, though.
I'm sorry this was so extremely long. But I hope it helps someone coming after me to see that you can go thru a wide range of emotions. But ultimately, everything is everything!
Take care, and good luck to us all on our journeys!

Hello! Hello!! Hello!!! To all my wonderful sleeve peeps! :wub:
Well, I made it to the other side of VSG surgery and lived to tell about it! Some of you may have read my 'worry woes' pre-op. If not, you can read them here. The nerves lasted right up until I went under...even was scared afterwards. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me 'splain it all below...
Part 1: Before surgery...
So I get to Tijuana uneventfully. Cecy (Dr. Kelly's wife) promptly picked me up from the airport. As with others, she gave me a brief tour of parts of San Diego (the pier, historic old town, convention center, etc.) before we headed for the border. Crossing into Mexico was a breeze. Once in TJ, I was taken to Hospital Angeles for chest x-rays. Nice hospital, and we were in and out pretty quickly.
From there, she gave me another brief tour of the beach in TJ. Wow...was nice. But I love all things Water (lake, sea, ocean, doesn't matter). There's something so calming for me when I'm near the Water. We also drove past the arena where they (used to) do the bullfighting. Cecy said it doesn't happen so much anymore. After that, we headed to the Oasis Hospital, where I was to have surgery. I look at the room...eh, nothing to write home about. It's just a room. I suppose by that time it was about 5pm.
Side note: I was supposed to have surgery at 2pm, after arriving in San Diego at 9:30am. However, my first flight to Denver arrived late, so I missed my connection. I had to be re-routed to Oakland, then to San Diego. Mind you, I hadn't eaten since the night before. Argh!!!
Anyhoo, so it's about 5(ish) pm when we get to Oasis Hospital. I meet with the cardiologist (can't recall his name). He takes my bp...it's high (150/96), and I'm surprised by that because it's not normally that high. I am generally at 120/80. So I start to tell him of my surprise and he says to hold on, he'll take it again. The first time was with the automatic pressure machine. The second time, he takes it by hand...it's the same. He asks if, perhaps due to my PCOS, I'm on a medication like Coumadin (sp?). No. "Anything?" he asks. Nope, I reply. I don't take ANY medications. Unable to determine the cause of my elevated bp, he merely shrugs it off and says it could be related to the stress of traveling, and nerves. This doesn't really satisfy me, but ok. He does the EKG and asks if I have any questions. Uhhh yeah! Am I ok to have this surgery with an elevated bp??? He says it's not a problem...
After that, the nurses start putting the compression stockings on me and I'm like, whoa! Wait a minute!!! This is getting really real! I start asking myself, "Are you really gonna do this?" "Have I made my peace with God??" "If I die, it will kill my mother." As I'm laying there, these thoughts going through my mind, tears start to roll from my eyes down the sides of my face. I realize that I have to be willing to die in order to live. One of the nurses seeing my tears, comforts me...en espanol. At that moment I think, "Maybe I shouldn't have come alone..."
Before I can complete that thought, Dr. Kelly enters the room to introduce himself. Omar, the patient coordinator with whom I've had much phone and text communication, is with him. I immediately ask the doctor about my elevated bp and he tells me not to worry. They are going to give me something that will bring it down. He assures me I'm ok for surgery, since I have no other co-morbidities. He leaves to go prep for surgery.
Omar stays behind to chat a bit and tells me I don't need to worry. "Yeah, but I am," I say. He assures me I'm gonna be ok, but then says, "If you're really not sure. You can call this off right now. You don't have to go forward. We want you to be extremely sure, so it's ok if you decide not to go forward." In a strange way, this puts me slightly at ease. I realize, this is my CHOICE. I have the power here, no one else. In life, we have to make decisions. I did my best to research this solution, and before it, i did my best to be my best. If this is where my life's journey has led me, then so be it. I make my peace with God that either I'll see Him on the other side, or I'll begin my life anew in this realm. So be it.
At this point, probably because I've somewhat resolved that my fate is my fate, I realize no one's even asked for payment yet! So while Omar is yapping away, i just bust out and share that information with him. "I mean, it's fine by me if y'all wanna do this surgery for free, but I don't think that's the case..." He bucks up and hands me my purse pronto!
Now it's time to head to the OR...oh Lord! So soon??? Geez, this is all happening too fast! I ask Omar the time, it's around 6:00pm now. We head down a long corridor, me being wheeled on my operating bed, looking up at everyone speaking spanish above me. Okaaayyyy, what the HELL am I doing???
We enter the OR, a bright spacious room. I notice a TV. I guess that should be there, since they are doing the surgery laparoscopically. Then I notice a stereo. I ask the gentleman standing next to me if they plan on rocking out while performing my surgery. He nods his head. "Don't worry" he says, after noticing what I'm sure was a horrified look on my face. Good Lord...
Everyone is scurrying about. The anesthesiologist introduces himself and before I know it, he's pulled down my gown to place electrodes on my chest and...oops! There's my boob, in plain sight for everyone to see! I know he has to do this in order to place the electrodes, but...,embarassing!!! LOL!
On the other side of me, someone outstretches my arm and begins to strap it to an extended arm pad. Then, he walks around to the other side and does the other arm. I realize I'm in the sacrificial position of Christ on the cross.
I'm just now realizing the irony of that...
Next, the anesthesiologist informs me he's giving me something to help me "relax". Uh-oh! I know what that means!!! Lights out! My nerves kick into high gear. It's crunch time! I feel the drug and man-o-shevits I start fighting it! I fight to keep my eyes open--WIDE! "Yust relax..." I hear.
Wait a minute! I'm not ready... Oh God!, I think in my head. So much for all that "I made my peace" mumbo jumbo!!
Is...is that woman on a cell phone over there?? What the hell kinda place is... Next thing I know, I'm waking up in my room!
Part 2: After surgery...
I wake up in my hospital room and it feels like no time at all has passed. I am confused and wonder who the hell are all these people fussing over me, telling me to wake up. Can't they see I'm soooooo tired??? Noooo, leave me alone! I try to yell but can't articulate. I look over, and I see Omar sitting in a recliner in my room, looking at me. I want to say something to him, but once again, it's lights out for me.
When I finally do wake up, it's 2am (I know cuz I asked the nurse who was tending to me). She spoke some English. I immediately began my 48-hour vomit phase. Now, anyone who knows me knows I DO NOT wish to throw up...EVER!!! In fact, I don't do pain or sickness in general well at all. For me, that's always a sign of Armageddon on earth! So me tossing my Cookies repeatedly for 2 days? No. But that's precisely what happened. It started the night of surgery and didn't stop until I was ready to leave the hospital. I asked the nurse for medication. I was flatly told, "No."
WHAT???
OK, surely this...person...didn't understand me! But Omar's now gone. No translation for me tonight. And all night that first night, I threw up. Sure, the nurses kept coming in to check on me and empty my bucket full of vomit. But I didn't get any meds.
By the next morning, the vomiting had slowed...or so I thought. It seemed every time someone came and asked, "How are you feeling?" I'd consider and then respond, "OK." And no sooner than when they'd leave my room I'd get that Oh God, not again feeling. And then the vomiting would continue.
The doctor on call came in eventually and told me I needed to get up to walk as soon as I could. So I did...and then I'd vomit and feel weak. (Damn that hallway was long!!) The next day, Dr. Kelly came as I was walking. When he asked how I was feeling, I told him I had vomited all night and they wouldn't give me any medication. He looked concerned and said if and when I needed it, I could have medicine. I guess he must've went and talked to someone, cuz the next thing I know in comes the nurse with pain and nausea medication.
ALRIGHT!!!
Unfortunately, it didn't help much.
After a while, I just started feeling down. I was sooooo sick. With nothing more to up-chuck, I was dry heaving which is just as bad. It felt like it would never end. Like I'd never feel better again. Like I'd made the wrong decision...
When you're sick, you can't see anything but that sickness...at least that's how I am. Omar, who had stopped by with Dr. Kelly earlier, saw that I was in low spirits. So he did something that REALLY helped me: he brought a previous patient back to the hospital to chat with me.
There was a lady there who had had surgery with Dr. Kelly 2 days prior to me, on Thursday (mine was Saturday). When she came in the room, standing fully erect (I sure couldn't, at that point), happy go-lucky and having been out walking around and shopping...
2 words: I-WAS-FLOORED!!! (OK, that was 3 words... )
I could NOT believe that she had just had surgery. She certainly didn't look like me. And I really wanted to call her a liar. But she was with her mother...and we all know Moms don't lie, right?? It was really amazing to meet her and see her progress. She assured me that she was JUST LIKE ME 2 days prior. That she was sick constantly, that her mother held her vomit bucket as she walked the halls! (Moms are great, aren't they??)
This woman gave me hope, and a newfound motivation that everything would eventually be ok. And you know what? By day 3, it was. By the time I was ready to go to the hotel, I felt about 75% better. While I was still a llittle shaky, there was no more vomiting (thank you Baby Jesus!!).
So we left to go back to Hospital Angeles to take the final leak test. Seeing that clear liquid and knowing everyone says it tastes horrible, I was not wanting to chance it. I just knew I was gonna throw up. But Omar assured me that no one had ever thrown up from the stuff. So, I drank the horrible concoction. And it stayed down. Seeing the Fluid travel thru my hot dog shaped stomach was quite a sight!
No leaks...I was good.
The other 2 days in the hotel were nice. Lucerna Hotel is quite a nice little place. Omar took me to the mall one day, and then to the beach and to Revolucion (a place with a lot of shops for tourists) the next. I decided to spend my last night (night 4) in San Diego, in order to have no problems crossing the border back into the U.S. While crossing into Mexico was a nonevent, coming back took hours! Ugh!
Cecy again drove me back across the border. Dr. Kelly, who was on his way to an appointment on the U.S side, rode with us. So I got a couple of hours to really chat with him. I discovered that not only is he a great surgeon, he's a generally great guy. We chatted politics, travel, insurance in the U.S., plastic surgery...coordinators. He admonished me to stay in touch long term. I sure never got that much from a U.S. doctor!!
Cecy and I also stopped at The Fashion Valley mall in San Diego before going to the hotel. Wow, I LOVE that mall! They've got EVERY store you could think of!!! I can't wait to lose a good chunk of weight. I wanna shop, shop, SHOP!!!
The only downside to crossing the border a day early was that I was put up at the Quality Inn near the airport. I guess it was about the same price as the Lucerna. It certainly wasn't the same quality! I'd consider the Lucerna to be about 3.5 stars, while Quality Inn was about 2.75 stars...that's my opinion anyway. I would stress to everyone that if you're offered this option, you might want to reconsider. The Quality Inn room was shabby. And coming from the Lucerna, it was really a downer. It was livable, but if I had thought about it, if I had considered that the value of the dollar goes a lot farther in TJ, I'd have stayed at the Lucerna and just got up extra early to cross the border on the day of my flight. It would have been worth it. After all, I'd been through enough discomfort by that point.
So now, I'm back at home on day 6. I feel fine, if not a little tired from not getting enough calories. I'm only allowed Gatorade, fruit juice, broth, water and Jello. It's getting old...
But right now, I'm happy. I'm content. I'm grateful. And soooooo optimistic about my future. I am so excited about my next chapter in life. One of my bucket list items after losing weight is to take at least a year off and travel the world. Now that I'm on the road to significant weight loss, that possibility is now very real. And I'm anxious! One thing at a time, though.
I'm sorry this was so extremely long. But I hope it helps someone coming after me to see that you can go thru a wide range of emotions. But ultimately, everything is everything!
Take care, and good luck to us all on our journeys!

GREAT story! You are a great writer... You have a natural gift for it! I am pre-sleeve and it sounds exactly how I am feeling and imagine I'll feel the day of surgery. Made me feel better to know it's not just me! Congrats and best wishes!

Hello! Hello!! Hello!!! To all my wonderful sleeve peeps! :wub:
Well, I made it to the other side of VSG surgery and lived to tell about it! Some of you may have read my 'worry woes' pre-op. If not, you can read them here. The nerves lasted right up until I went under...even was scared afterwards. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me 'splain it all below...
Part 1: Before surgery...
So I get to Tijuana uneventfully. Cecy (Dr. Kelly's wife) promptly picked me up from the airport. As with others, she gave me a brief tour of parts of San Diego (the pier, historic old town, convention center, etc.) before we headed for the border. Crossing into Mexico was a breeze. Once in TJ, I was taken to Hospital Angeles for chest x-rays. Nice hospital, and we were in and out pretty quickly.
From there, she gave me another brief tour of the beach in TJ. Wow...was nice. But I love all things Water (lake, sea, ocean, doesn't matter). There's something so calming for me when I'm near the Water. We also drove past the arena where they (used to) do the bullfighting. Cecy said it doesn't happen so much anymore. After that, we headed to the Oasis Hospital, where I was to have surgery. I look at the room...eh, nothing to write home about. It's just a room. I suppose by that time it was about 5pm.
Side note: I was supposed to have surgery at 2pm, after arriving in San Diego at 9:30am. However, my first flight to Denver arrived late, so I missed my connection. I had to be re-routed to Oakland, then to San Diego. Mind you, I hadn't eaten since the night before. Argh!!!
Anyhoo, so it's about 5(ish) pm when we get to Oasis Hospital. I meet with the cardiologist (can't recall his name). He takes my bp...it's high (150/96), and I'm surprised by that because it's not normally that high. I am generally at 120/80. So I start to tell him of my surprise and he says to hold on, he'll take it again. The first time was with the automatic pressure machine. The second time, he takes it by hand...it's the same. He asks if, perhaps due to my PCOS, I'm on a medication like Coumadin (sp?). No. "Anything?" he asks. Nope, I reply. I don't take ANY medications. Unable to determine the cause of my elevated bp, he merely shrugs it off and says it could be related to the stress of traveling, and nerves. This doesn't really satisfy me, but ok. He does the EKG and asks if I have any questions. Uhhh yeah! Am I ok to have this surgery with an elevated bp??? He says it's not a problem...
After that, the nurses start putting the compression stockings on me and I'm like, whoa! Wait a minute!!! This is getting really real! I start asking myself, "Are you really gonna do this?" "Have I made my peace with God??" "If I die, it will kill my mother." As I'm laying there, these thoughts going through my mind, tears start to roll from my eyes down the sides of my face. I realize that I have to be willing to die in order to live. One of the nurses seeing my tears, comforts me...en espanol. At that moment I think, "Maybe I shouldn't have come alone..."
Before I can complete that thought, Dr. Kelly enters the room to introduce himself. Omar, the patient coordinator with whom I've had much phone and text communication, is with him. I immediately ask the doctor about my elevated bp and he tells me not to worry. They are going to give me something that will bring it down. He assures me I'm ok for surgery, since I have no other co-morbidities. He leaves to go prep for surgery.
Omar stays behind to chat a bit and tells me I don't need to worry. "Yeah, but I am," I say. He assures me I'm gonna be ok, but then says, "If you're really not sure. You can call this off right now. You don't have to go forward. We want you to be extremely sure, so it's ok if you decide not to go forward." In a strange way, this puts me slightly at ease. I realize, this is my CHOICE. I have the power here, no one else. In life, we have to make decisions. I did my best to research this solution, and before it, i did my best to be my best. If this is where my life's journey has led me, then so be it. I make my peace with God that either I'll see Him on the other side, or I'll begin my life anew in this realm. So be it.
At this point, probably because I've somewhat resolved that my fate is my fate, I realize no one's even asked for payment yet! So while Omar is yapping away, i just bust out and share that information with him. "I mean, it's fine by me if y'all wanna do this surgery for free, but I don't think that's the case..." He bucks up and hands me my purse pronto!
Now it's time to head to the OR...oh Lord! So soon??? Geez, this is all happening too fast! I ask Omar the time, it's around 6:00pm now. We head down a long corridor, me being wheeled on my operating bed, looking up at everyone speaking spanish above me. Okaaayyyy, what the HELL am I doing???
We enter the OR, a bright spacious room. I notice a TV. I guess that should be there, since they are doing the surgery laparoscopically. Then I notice a stereo. I ask the gentleman standing next to me if they plan on rocking out while performing my surgery. He nods his head. "Don't worry" he says, after noticing what I'm sure was a horrified look on my face. Good Lord...
Everyone is scurrying about. The anesthesiologist introduces himself and before I know it, he's pulled down my gown to place electrodes on my chest and...oops! There's my boob, in plain sight for everyone to see! I know he has to do this in order to place the electrodes, but...,embarassing!!! LOL!
On the other side of me, someone outstretches my arm and begins to strap it to an extended arm pad. Then, he walks around to the other side and does the other arm. I realize I'm in the sacrificial position of Christ on the cross.
I'm just now realizing the irony of that...
Next, the anesthesiologist informs me he's giving me something to help me "relax". Uh-oh! I know what that means!!! Lights out! My nerves kick into high gear. It's crunch time! I feel the drug and man-o-shevits I start fighting it! I fight to keep my eyes open--WIDE! "Yust relax..." I hear.
Wait a minute! I'm not ready... Oh God!, I think in my head. So much for all that "I made my peace" mumbo jumbo!!
Is...is that woman on a cell phone over there?? What the hell kinda place is... Next thing I know, I'm waking up in my room!
Part 2: After surgery...
I wake up in my hospital room and it feels like no time at all has passed. I am confused and wonder who the hell are all these people fussing over me, telling me to wake up. Can't they see I'm soooooo tired??? Noooo, leave me alone! I try to yell but can't articulate. I look over, and I see Omar sitting in a recliner in my room, looking at me. I want to say something to him, but once again, it's lights out for me.
When I finally do wake up, it's 2am (I know cuz I asked the nurse who was tending to me). She spoke some English. I immediately began my 48-hour vomit phase. Now, anyone who knows me knows I DO NOT wish to throw up...EVER!!! In fact, I don't do pain or sickness in general well at all. For me, that's always a sign of Armageddon on earth! So me tossing my Cookies repeatedly for 2 days? No. But that's precisely what happened. It started the night of surgery and didn't stop until I was ready to leave the hospital. I asked the nurse for medication. I was flatly told, "No."
WHAT???
OK, surely this...person...didn't understand me! But Omar's now gone. No translation for me tonight. And all night that first night, I threw up. Sure, the nurses kept coming in to check on me and empty my bucket full of vomit. But I didn't get any meds.
By the next morning, the vomiting had slowed...or so I thought. It seemed every time someone came and asked, "How are you feeling?" I'd consider and then respond, "OK." And no sooner than when they'd leave my room I'd get that Oh God, not again feeling. And then the vomiting would continue.
The doctor on call came in eventually and told me I needed to get up to walk as soon as I could. So I did...and then I'd vomit and feel weak. (Damn that hallway was long!!) The next day, Dr. Kelly came as I was walking. When he asked how I was feeling, I told him I had vomited all night and they wouldn't give me any medication. He looked concerned and said if and when I needed it, I could have medicine. I guess he must've went and talked to someone, cuz the next thing I know in comes the nurse with pain and nausea medication.
ALRIGHT!!!
Unfortunately, it didn't help much.
After a while, I just started feeling down. I was sooooo sick. With nothing more to up-chuck, I was dry heaving which is just as bad. It felt like it would never end. Like I'd never feel better again. Like I'd made the wrong decision...
When you're sick, you can't see anything but that sickness...at least that's how I am. Omar, who had stopped by with Dr. Kelly earlier, saw that I was in low spirits. So he did something that REALLY helped me: he brought a previous patient back to the hospital to chat with me.
There was a lady there who had had surgery with Dr. Kelly 2 days prior to me, on Thursday (mine was Saturday). When she came in the room, standing fully erect (I sure couldn't, at that point), happy go-lucky and having been out walking around and shopping...
2 words: I-WAS-FLOORED!!! (OK, that was 3 words... )
I could NOT believe that she had just had surgery. She certainly didn't look like me. And I really wanted to call her a liar. But she was with her mother...and we all know Moms don't lie, right?? It was really amazing to meet her and see her progress. She assured me that she was JUST LIKE ME 2 days prior. That she was sick constantly, that her mother held her vomit bucket as she walked the halls! (Moms are great, aren't they??)
This woman gave me hope, and a newfound motivation that everything would eventually be ok. And you know what? By day 3, it was. By the time I was ready to go to the hotel, I felt about 75% better. While I was still a llittle shaky, there was no more vomiting (thank you Baby Jesus!!).
So we left to go back to Hospital Angeles to take the final leak test. Seeing that clear liquid and knowing everyone says it tastes horrible, I was not wanting to chance it. I just knew I was gonna throw up. But Omar assured me that no one had ever thrown up from the stuff. So, I drank the horrible concoction. And it stayed down. Seeing the Fluid travel thru my hot dog shaped stomach was quite a sight!
No leaks...I was good.
The other 2 days in the hotel were nice. Lucerna Hotel is quite a nice little place. Omar took me to the mall one day, and then to the beach and to Revolucion (a place with a lot of shops for tourists) the next. I decided to spend my last night (night 4) in San Diego, in order to have no problems crossing the border back into the U.S. While crossing into Mexico was a nonevent, coming back took hours! Ugh!
Cecy again drove me back across the border. Dr. Kelly, who was on his way to an appointment on the U.S side, rode with us. So I got a couple of hours to really chat with him. I discovered that not only is he a great surgeon, he's a generally great guy. We chatted politics, travel, insurance in the U.S., plastic surgery...coordinators. He admonished me to stay in touch long term. I sure never got that much from a U.S. doctor!!
Cecy and I also stopped at The Fashion Valley mall in San Diego before going to the hotel. Wow, I LOVE that mall! They've got EVERY store you could think of!!! I can't wait to lose a good chunk of weight. I wanna shop, shop, SHOP!!!
The only downside to crossing the border a day early was that I was put up at the Quality Inn near the airport. I guess it was about the same price as the Lucerna. It certainly wasn't the same quality! I'd consider the Lucerna to be about 3.5 stars, while Quality Inn was about 2.75 stars...that's my opinion anyway. I would stress to everyone that if you're offered this option, you might want to reconsider. The Quality Inn room was shabby. And coming from the Lucerna, it was really a downer. It was livable, but if I had thought about it, if I had considered that the value of the dollar goes a lot farther in TJ, I'd have stayed at the Lucerna and just got up extra early to cross the border on the day of my flight. It would have been worth it. After all, I'd been through enough discomfort by that point.
So now, I'm back at home on day 6. I feel fine, if not a little tired from not getting enough calories. I'm only allowed Gatorade, fruit juice, broth, water and Jello. It's getting old...
But right now, I'm happy. I'm content. I'm grateful. And soooooo optimistic about my future. I am so excited about my next chapter in life. One of my bucket list items after losing weight is to take at least a year off and travel the world. Now that I'm on the road to significant weight loss, that possibility is now very real. And I'm anxious! One thing at a time, though.
I'm sorry this was so extremely long. But I hope it helps someone coming after me to see that you can go thru a wide range of emotions. But ultimately, everything is everything!
Take care, and good luck to us all on our journeys!

Thanks for the compliment. I am not a "published" writer, but years ago I started a novel (perhaps one day I'll get back to it) and I used to write a lot of poetry. Right now, I'm working on a blog about my life, including my VSG journey. I figure I'll see if I can keep that going for a while. If so, I'd love to be published in some way, some day.
As for the vomiting, everyone is different. I pray your experience is much better than mine!

CJ, Welcome to the loser's bench!! I loved your post and I agree, you should be published!!

Was great of you to share. Are you a writer? You express yourself so well. Loved it! Thank you. Not looking foward to the vomiting. But thanks for your honesty.

Thank you for sharing your experience! It was very funny and interesting; I didnt find it long at all (I was laughing the whole time). :-) I'm glad all is going well for you now.

Thank you for your story very wonderful, good luck on your journey.

Hello! Hello!! Hello!!! To all my wonderful sleeve peeps! :wub:
Well, I made it to the other side of VSG surgery and lived to tell about it! Some of you may have read my 'worry woes' pre-op. If not, you can read them here. The nerves lasted right up until I went under...even was scared afterwards. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me 'splain it all below...
Part 1: Before surgery...
So I get to Tijuana uneventfully. Cecy (Dr. Kelly's wife) promptly picked me up from the airport. As with others, she gave me a brief tour of parts of San Diego (the pier, historic old town, convention center, etc.) before we headed for the border. Crossing into Mexico was a breeze. Once in TJ, I was taken to Hospital Angeles for chest x-rays. Nice hospital, and we were in and out pretty quickly.
From there, she gave me another brief tour of the beach in TJ. Wow...was nice. But I love all things Water (lake, sea, ocean, doesn't matter). There's something so calming for me when I'm near the Water. We also drove past the arena where they (used to) do the bullfighting. Cecy said it doesn't happen so much anymore. After that, we headed to the Oasis Hospital, where I was to have surgery. I look at the room...eh, nothing to write home about. It's just a room. I suppose by that time it was about 5pm.
Side note: I was supposed to have surgery at 2pm, after arriving in San Diego at 9:30am. However, my first flight to Denver arrived late, so I missed my connection. I had to be re-routed to Oakland, then to San Diego. Mind you, I hadn't eaten since the night before. Argh!!!
Anyhoo, so it's about 5(ish) pm when we get to Oasis Hospital. I meet with the cardiologist (can't recall his name). He takes my bp...it's high (150/96), and I'm surprised by that because it's not normally that high. I am generally at 120/80. So I start to tell him of my surprise and he says to hold on, he'll take it again. The first time was with the automatic pressure machine. The second time, he takes it by hand...it's the same. He asks if, perhaps due to my PCOS, I'm on a medication like Coumadin (sp?). No. "Anything?" he asks. Nope, I reply. I don't take ANY medications. Unable to determine the cause of my elevated bp, he merely shrugs it off and says it could be related to the stress of traveling, and nerves. This doesn't really satisfy me, but ok. He does the EKG and asks if I have any questions. Uhhh yeah! Am I ok to have this surgery with an elevated bp??? He says it's not a problem...
After that, the nurses start putting the compression stockings on me and I'm like, whoa! Wait a minute!!! This is getting really real! I start asking myself, "Are you really gonna do this?" "Have I made my peace with God??" "If I die, it will kill my mother." As I'm laying there, these thoughts going through my mind, tears start to roll from my eyes down the sides of my face. I realize that I have to be willing to die in order to live. One of the nurses seeing my tears, comforts me...en espanol. At that moment I think, "Maybe I shouldn't have come alone..."
Before I can complete that thought, Dr. Kelly enters the room to introduce himself. Omar, the patient coordinator with whom I've had much phone and text communication, is with him. I immediately ask the doctor about my elevated bp and he tells me not to worry. They are going to give me something that will bring it down. He assures me I'm ok for surgery, since I have no other co-morbidities. He leaves to go prep for surgery.
Omar stays behind to chat a bit and tells me I don't need to worry. "Yeah, but I am," I say. He assures me I'm gonna be ok, but then says, "If you're really not sure. You can call this off right now. You don't have to go forward. We want you to be extremely sure, so it's ok if you decide not to go forward." In a strange way, this puts me slightly at ease. I realize, this is my CHOICE. I have the power here, no one else. In life, we have to make decisions. I did my best to research this solution, and before it, i did my best to be my best. If this is where my life's journey has led me, then so be it. I make my peace with God that either I'll see Him on the other side, or I'll begin my life anew in this realm. So be it.
At this point, probably because I've somewhat resolved that my fate is my fate, I realize no one's even asked for payment yet! So while Omar is yapping away, i just bust out and share that information with him. "I mean, it's fine by me if y'all wanna do this surgery for free, but I don't think that's the case..." He bucks up and hands me my purse pronto!
Now it's time to head to the OR...oh Lord! So soon??? Geez, this is all happening too fast! I ask Omar the time, it's around 6:00pm now. We head down a long corridor, me being wheeled on my operating bed, looking up at everyone speaking spanish above me. Okaaayyyy, what the HELL am I doing???
We enter the OR, a bright spacious room. I notice a TV. I guess that should be there, since they are doing the surgery laparoscopically. Then I notice a stereo. I ask the gentleman standing next to me if they plan on rocking out while performing my surgery. He nods his head. "Don't worry" he says, after noticing what I'm sure was a horrified look on my face. Good Lord...
Everyone is scurrying about. The anesthesiologist introduces himself and before I know it, he's pulled down my gown to place electrodes on my chest and...oops! There's my boob, in plain sight for everyone to see! I know he has to do this in order to place the electrodes, but...,embarassing!!! LOL!
On the other side of me, someone outstretches my arm and begins to strap it to an extended arm pad. Then, he walks around to the other side and does the other arm. I realize I'm in the sacrificial position of Christ on the cross.
I'm just now realizing the irony of that...
Next, the anesthesiologist informs me he's giving me something to help me "relax". Uh-oh! I know what that means!!! Lights out! My nerves kick into high gear. It's crunch time! I feel the drug and man-o-shevits I start fighting it! I fight to keep my eyes open--WIDE! "Yust relax..." I hear.
Wait a minute! I'm not ready... Oh God!, I think in my head. So much for all that "I made my peace" mumbo jumbo!!
Is...is that woman on a cell phone over there?? What the hell kinda place is... Next thing I know, I'm waking up in my room!
Part 2: After surgery...
I wake up in my hospital room and it feels like no time at all has passed. I am confused and wonder who the hell are all these people fussing over me, telling me to wake up. Can't they see I'm soooooo tired??? Noooo, leave me alone! I try to yell but can't articulate. I look over, and I see Omar sitting in a recliner in my room, looking at me. I want to say something to him, but once again, it's lights out for me.
When I finally do wake up, it's 2am (I know cuz I asked the nurse who was tending to me). She spoke some English. I immediately began my 48-hour vomit phase. Now, anyone who knows me knows I DO NOT wish to throw up...EVER!!! In fact, I don't do pain or sickness in general well at all. For me, that's always a sign of Armageddon on earth! So me tossing my Cookies repeatedly for 2 days? No. But that's precisely what happened. It started the night of surgery and didn't stop until I was ready to leave the hospital. I asked the nurse for medication. I was flatly told, "No."
WHAT???
OK, surely this...person...didn't understand me! But Omar's now gone. No translation for me tonight. And all night that first night, I threw up. Sure, the nurses kept coming in to check on me and empty my bucket full of vomit. But I didn't get any meds.
By the next morning, the vomiting had slowed...or so I thought. It seemed every time someone came and asked, "How are you feeling?" I'd consider and then respond, "OK." And no sooner than when they'd leave my room I'd get that Oh God, not again feeling. And then the vomiting would continue.
The doctor on call came in eventually and told me I needed to get up to walk as soon as I could. So I did...and then I'd vomit and feel weak. (Damn that hallway was long!!) The next day, Dr. Kelly came as I was walking. When he asked how I was feeling, I told him I had vomited all night and they wouldn't give me any medication. He looked concerned and said if and when I needed it, I could have medicine. I guess he must've went and talked to someone, cuz the next thing I know in comes the nurse with pain and nausea medication.
ALRIGHT!!!
Unfortunately, it didn't help much.
After a while, I just started feeling down. I was sooooo sick. With nothing more to up-chuck, I was dry heaving which is just as bad. It felt like it would never end. Like I'd never feel better again. Like I'd made the wrong decision...
When you're sick, you can't see anything but that sickness...at least that's how I am. Omar, who had stopped by with Dr. Kelly earlier, saw that I was in low spirits. So he did something that REALLY helped me: he brought a previous patient back to the hospital to chat with me.
There was a lady there who had had surgery with Dr. Kelly 2 days prior to me, on Thursday (mine was Saturday). When she came in the room, standing fully erect (I sure couldn't, at that point), happy go-lucky and having been out walking around and shopping...
2 words: I-WAS-FLOORED!!! (OK, that was 3 words... )
I could NOT believe that she had just had surgery. She certainly didn't look like me. And I really wanted to call her a liar. But she was with her mother...and we all know Moms don't lie, right?? It was really amazing to meet her and see her progress. She assured me that she was JUST LIKE ME 2 days prior. That she was sick constantly, that her mother held her vomit bucket as she walked the halls! (Moms are great, aren't they??)
This woman gave me hope, and a newfound motivation that everything would eventually be ok. And you know what? By day 3, it was. By the time I was ready to go to the hotel, I felt about 75% better. While I was still a llittle shaky, there was no more vomiting (thank you Baby Jesus!!).
So we left to go back to Hospital Angeles to take the final leak test. Seeing that clear liquid and knowing everyone says it tastes horrible, I was not wanting to chance it. I just knew I was gonna throw up. But Omar assured me that no one had ever thrown up from the stuff. So, I drank the horrible concoction. And it stayed down. Seeing the Fluid travel thru my hot dog shaped stomach was quite a sight!
No leaks...I was good.
The other 2 days in the hotel were nice. Lucerna Hotel is quite a nice little place. Omar took me to the mall one day, and then to the beach and to Revolucion (a place with a lot of shops for tourists) the next. I decided to spend my last night (night 4) in San Diego, in order to have no problems crossing the border back into the U.S. While crossing into Mexico was a nonevent, coming back took hours! Ugh!
Cecy again drove me back across the border. Dr. Kelly, who was on his way to an appointment on the U.S side, rode with us. So I got a couple of hours to really chat with him. I discovered that not only is he a great surgeon, he's a generally great guy. We chatted politics, travel, insurance in the U.S., plastic surgery...coordinators. He admonished me to stay in touch long term. I sure never got that much from a U.S. doctor!!
Cecy and I also stopped at The Fashion Valley mall in San Diego before going to the hotel. Wow, I LOVE that mall! They've got EVERY store you could think of!!! I can't wait to lose a good chunk of weight. I wanna shop, shop, SHOP!!!
The only downside to crossing the border a day early was that I was put up at the Quality Inn near the airport. I guess it was about the same price as the Lucerna. It certainly wasn't the same quality! I'd consider the Lucerna to be about 3.5 stars, while Quality Inn was about 2.75 stars...that's my opinion anyway. I would stress to everyone that if you're offered this option, you might want to reconsider. The Quality Inn room was shabby. And coming from the Lucerna, it was really a downer. It was livable, but if I had thought about it, if I had considered that the value of the dollar goes a lot farther in TJ, I'd have stayed at the Lucerna and just got up extra early to cross the border on the day of my flight. It would have been worth it. After all, I'd been through enough discomfort by that point.
So now, I'm back at home on day 6. I feel fine, if not a little tired from not getting enough calories. I'm only allowed Gatorade, fruit juice, broth, water and Jello. It's getting old...
But right now, I'm happy. I'm content. I'm grateful. And soooooo optimistic about my future. I am so excited about my next chapter in life. One of my bucket list items after losing weight is to take at least a year off and travel the world. Now that I'm on the road to significant weight loss, that possibility is now very real. And I'm anxious! One thing at a time, though.
I'm sorry this was so extremely long. But I hope it helps someone coming after me to see that you can go thru a wide range of emotions. But ultimately, everything is everything!
Take care, and good luck to us all on our journeys!

Great post! It was very insightful, too. I'm an OR nurse and sometimes we forget how fast everything is going and how the patients feel when they're going to sleep. Thanks for the reminder.

Yep, really helpful.....my date with the sleeve is tomorrow.....right around the corner.

thanks for sharing! I read most of it from my phone then decided to come home to finish reading it on my computer! Good luck on your journey!!

Thanks for sharing your story. I'm glad you're feeling better!

Great blog - very helpful!!!
Thanks!!

That was so amazing. I'm pre op got approved by Insurance and just waiting for my date. I loved everything laugh and could imagine everything step by step. Thank you for the post. I can't wait until I'm on the other side of this. I can only hope I'll be as descriptive...