KaylaMichelle

[size=4][color=#800080][font=georgia, serif]Hello! My name is Kayla. I am 21 years old, and I just had my surgery on December 21st, 2012. (So glad the world didn't end. ;) ) I have been obese since 3rd grade. (I hate the word "obese," by the way, it is just such an ugly sounding word. Makes sense. I just hate it.) Anyway, in May of 2011, at my very first gyno visit, I found out that I have PCOS. My doc told me I would probably never be able to have a child. I was absolutely devastated. She told me that if I lost weight, the PCOS would most likely be much less severe, and I would mostly likely be able to have a normal pregnancy. In the same breath, she informed me that less than 4% of women with PCOS lose weight successfully without some form of weight loss surgery.[/font][/color][/size]

[color=#800080][font=georgia, serif]My grandmother had RNY gastric bypass surgery in 2005. She lost over 150 pounds and is my rock. I actually moved in with her and my papaw in June of 2012. My parents got divorced, Mom sold the house, Dad and my sister moved into a two bedroom condo, and I moved in with the grandparents. It has no doubt been a rocky road getting here. The family wasn't all on board right away. "But you're just so young!" was something I heard- daily. I know I'm young. That is the entire point. [b]I didn't want to wait until some doctor told me that I had no choice if I wanted to live to be 55. [/b]So I got referred. I did the checklist. I paid the co-pays and got lost finding my way to the appointments. Then I paid the $2000 that insurance didn't want to pay and had the terrifying gut-rearranging surgery. (With my wonderful and now very supportive family there when I woke up in recovery.) Despite being a big girl, I learned one very important lesson in the hospital, I do not tolerate pain medication very well. In the words of my sweet recovery nurse, Brenda's words, "Two milligrams of morphine sends her on a trip for about two hours." lol! I'm pretty sure I talked and/or moaned in my narcotic-induced slumber the whole time in recovery. I don't remember a whole lot about the PACU, except when my mom and dad came to visit... Dad got right beside me and I squeezed the hell out of his hand. I heard him say, "Well, there's nothing wrong with her grip!" I love him so much. Then, once I got a room, my beautiful 17 year old sister came in with roses and I immediately started crying and said, "I love you so much. You're so sweet and I am hurting so bad." (I was still heavily medicated.) As it also turns out, I'm a pussy when it comes to pain. To give myself the benefit of the doubt, I did walk from the transport bed to the room bed 5 hours after surgery despite feeling like my entire insides were going to come out. They were floored, and the guy who brought me said he'd never seen anyone do that. (He very well could have been trying to make me feel better, but it worked.) Either way, I was only in the hospital for one night, and got discharged the next day at 2 p.m. I was terrified. Mom brought me home and I was asleep pretty much within ten minutes. [/font][/color]

[color=#800080][font=georgia, serif]Now I'm on this terrifying and totally amazeballs journey and I'm fighting my way through - one disgusting protein shake at a time.[/font][/color]