Surgery day + 6 - 10

That whole writing daily thing? That went well, as you can see.

My 6th day post-tummy tuck was an amazing day. We went to the mall and I got my eyebrows threaded and then we walked around a bit more and despite by best intentions, I gave into the temptations to try on clothes. Well, once we rearranged all my drains and I tried on a new top and saw how amazing I looked, I had to get it of course.



I got home with a couple of new things and tried them on for my dad. I was so happy with the way I looked that I started crying. It was kind of funny. I just couldn't contain all my emotions and I've never in my life cried with joy at how good I look. I mean, I've thought I looked pretty good in the past but this is different. This is like, holy shit! Every fantasy I've ever had about being able to wear clothes without rolls of fat and bulges where they aren't supposed to be has come true! How do you react to that if not by bursting into tears of joy? I am so grateful to God or the Universe, the Powers That Be, and everyone in between that I have been able to make it to this day. I never want to despise my body again. I never want to treat it badly, fill it with crap foods, abuse it with lack of sleep or water. I want to take care of myself now that I see what I want to see when I look in the mirror. I know that might sound messed up because we should all want to take that kind of care of ourselves regardless but I don't know...something just feels different. I still can't believe this silhouette is me. It's kind of like seeing a stranger in the mirror and that's weird!

Post op day 7 was as rough as day 6 was good. I was tired from the shopping the night before but somehow managed to stay up way later than I needed to. So I slept a lot on day 7. Also, I started feeling claustrophobic here at my dad's place and physically even though I mostly feel like my normal self again I can't do everything my normal self would so it's frustrating.

Post op day 8: I see my surgeon again. This was supposed to be a happy day because I just knew I'd be getting some drains removed. Been carrying around 5 little hand grenade sized plastic drains coming out of my body from every direction with tubes. Not only are they annoying but they are prohibitive to wearing nice clothes and have to be emptied several times daily. It's just gross and no fun all around. So when I saw my doctor and he only took out 1 (I was expecting 2 to come out) it made me feel quite a bit more down. He also started talking about my belly button and how it might not have survived. I had an umbilical hernia repair done at the same time of my TT and the loss of blood supply to the tissues might have damaged them beyond repair. He said he thought it would pull through but it looked pretty nasty. When asked by my mom, I told her that my belly button looked like a portal to hell that was ready to swallow up the rest of the world. It's that gross and black. So I left my surgeon's office not feeling very well at all. I felt like I could have just started crying on the spot but I waited till I was home to let a few tears out. It wasn't bad. Just enough to do whatever that magical thing crying does for a woman. I felt better. I kept telling myself that it would all be better soon, I'll be healed before I know it, and at least I got one drain out which served not only to eliminate one of the five annoying things hanging off me but also allayed my fears about the drain removal itself. Turns out it barely felt like anything and I'd been worried about the discomfort involved in that.

Post op day 9 started out really well. My dad and stepmom took me out to lunch with an elderly relative who I like and we had a good meal and a good time. Unfortunately I had only eaten a protein shake for breakfast and my salmon lunch filled me up very quickly (more so than normal, maybe 2oz of meat.) So when my stepmom took my to Macy's after lunch for some shopping that I thought I was up for, my body said otherwise. I was almost immediately in a bad mood and it wasn't helped by the idiocy of a few salespeople. My stepmom was really gung ho about me getting some leggings and tall boots and a sweater kind of outfit. We took everything to the dressing room but I was just really uncomfortable physically and didn't even want to try it all on. The drains were always in the way and I was starting to hurt and most of all, I felt extremely fat which I know is cause I'm still swollen but it just wasn't a good combination. I still wanted to get the items though and my motto is "you can always return it." When we got home and after drinking some water, I was definitely feeling better so I tried everything on together again. The privacy of my own room helps in terms of rearranging all the drains and I was able to get a good idea of how the clothes would look. So, yes, my stepmom was right. And when it comes to fashion she rarely is wrong. I also got everything on a great sale and my dad pitched in a little. So even though the shopping experience wasn't the greatest, the results are happy. I came home and lounged till it was dinner time and then went to bed at a decent hour. Good thing I did since I'd get woken up before 8 by a phone call...

Post op day 10 began with my phone ringing. I thought I must have slept till noon cause people don't tend to call me early. It was my surgeon's office calling to ask about my belly button (how sweet!) I told them I wasn't sure there was any improvement, it still looked pretty nasty to me. They asked if I wanted to come in and of course I did because it occurred to me that a couple of the drains might have made enough progress to be removed before the weekend. As it turns out, I was right and I am the proud owner of only TWO drains now. In other good news, the belly button isn't as bad as I thought. It still looks nasty but the doctor things it's "not dead yet" and still has a chance. He's got me doing antibiotic ointment, saline dressings, and a heavier antibiotic than I was previously on, all to keep up hope for my poor belly button.

Today has gone very well. I haven't done much but I'm still tired - a sure sign that I need to go to bed early tonight. I have lots of plans for the weekend with family and I see my doctor again on Monday. I am hoping he will take out one more drain then but I know it might be expecting too much. I am resigned to take things as slow as needed to heal properly but I really miss home (had a lot of homesick sadness on day 7) and as soon as the drains are all out I can fly back. I will have to come back for a followup a couple of weeks later but I'd rather pay another ticket than stay for an extra 2 weeks where I hardly know anyone and am away from my partner, dog, horse, friends, and job.

Going out to dinner in a few minutes with my uncle and cousin. Wearing one of my new outfits for the first time.

Surgery day + 5

Today was amazing. I felt energy and strength like I haven't since before surgery and I put on a pair of old size 14 jeggings that fit and buttoned over all my swelling and garments so I could actually go out looking like a normal person instead of an unemployed sweatpants wearing slob. Sorry to anyone out there who is actually unemployed and wears sweatpants. Just not being able to wear normal clothes for the past 5 days has been getting me down and making me feel like a bum.

The day started off well when I tore off all of my binding garments and actually took some pictures of my new body because until I saw it, I wasn't sure it was really there. I know it still looks awful now cause I'm swollen and bruised and have Frankenstein looking stitches all over me but I can finally see the future instead of only seeing the past when I look at myself in the mirror. In my jeans, I noticed every time I saw myself in a mirror today that I really do have a small hour-glass shape going on where my body narrows at the waist and widens at the hips. Amazing! It is the first time in my life!

Also good today was time spent with my grandmother, my great aunt, my little cousin, and grandfather. I got a manicure and the Vietnamese guy doing my nails flirted with me. "Your arms are strong" he said while massaging my hands. "Yeah, I lift weights" I told him. "I bet your arms look good when you lift weights" He said in almost incomprehensible English. "Hmmm...yeah, I guess." Was the only thing I could imagine was an appropriate response. "I could teach you kung fu." He said. "I'm only in town for a week and I just got out of the hospital so I can't." I told him. Hmm... there's a pick up line if I ever heard one. Good on him for trying though!

On the downside, 2 meals with my grandparents is enough to remind me why I ended up 273 lbs to begin with. I am really proud of myself for both staying calm and cheerful throughout dinner and eating only what I needed to and not letting the pressure get to me. So what is this mealtime nightmare you ask?

Let's start with lunch. I arrive at my grandmother's to find her and my great-aunt ready to sit down to eat. There are bowls of "salad from a bag" and several dressings on the table (all of them fat free) and she is heating up the main course. The salad, while I'm not complaining about it being from a bag, was just not the good quality lettuce I'm used to. It was something to the effect of iceberg with shredded carrots. Not even worth me eating and taking up room in my tiny stomach. I poured some dressing on and poked around with it to be polite. Lucky for me, I'm on the looser side with my band and eating some lettuce wasn't the meal-ruiner it used to be.

On to the main course... Turns out lunch was a) leftover rotisserie chicken, b) a Healthy choice pot roast/baked potato/carrots/apple tart frozen dinner c) some collard greens, d) some tomatoes and okra, e) dinner rolls. We were encouraged to take a bit of everything. And when I say encouraged, it was quite a montage of "Do you want some of ___, can you eat ___?, are you sure you don't want some ____, come on, have some ___" I took what looked like the moistest part of the chicken and a teaspoon of each "vegetable" just to taste a bite. I ended up being quite satisfied with my chicken on a dinner roll, so I can't complain about the quality of lunch. It was just odd. Especially considering we were supposed to go out to some nice ethnic food festival thing but my grandmother decided against it because they probably wouldn't have anything that was "on her diet." Yes, at 74 she is still watching her weight. Really, all in all, lunch wasn't that bad. The conversation was nice and I enjoy socializing with my grandmother and aunt. It was dinner that turned more ugly than I would ever show on the outside.

My little cousin (5 years younger) arrived just before 6 and we decided to go to our favorite place which is Thai but also serves sushi. It's a place I could eat at every night when I'm visiting home and never tire of. In all the different places I've lived I haven't found a restaurant that quite compares. Good thing my grandparents like it to so asking to go there is never a hard sell. But one dinner with them brings back all these emotions and memories of growing up this way and it's somewhat disturbing to recount.

To start, we walk in and I immediately excused myself to the restroom while the other 3 were seated. I have been drinking a lot of water, as always, so constantly in need. Plus, sitting down and being able to mess with my drains is always helpful so I take care of that. By the time I returned to the table I found they had already ordered appetizers. Some vegetarian spring rolls (called "egg rolls" by my grandparents) and edamame (which they called "wasabis" - yes plural). They had ordered the edamame without salt which usually comes on the outside of it for flavor, understandable and not too crazy of a request. My cousin and I decided to split 3 sushi rolls between the 2 of us (oh, I should mention she is banded too) and my grandparents ordered a fountain of wonton soup and a rack of lamb to split. From this moment on, as food started arriving, the table was an overcrowded 3-ring circus of food induced chaos. My grandfather: the ringmaster. Divvying up portions to everyone and helping himself to anything he found appealing no matter whose plate it was on.

The spring rolls and edamame arrived first: 3 spring rolls cut into 2 pieces each. I watched in a bit of horror (truth be told) as he took one of the halves to his small appetizer plate, dumped the entire bowl of sweet-chili dipping sauce on top of it, and attacked it with a knife and fork. I'm not kidding. Attacked it! It was barbaric and I felt sorry for the poor spring roll. The speed at which he did this allowed no other person at the table an opportunity to partake in the dipping sauce or even savor the aesthetic appeal of 3 symmetrical spring rolls on a plate. I felt cheated in a weird way. One of my first thoughts was, "Hey, I like that sauce...I might have actually wanted to use some." Alternately with, "What a pig!" and "Seriously? Am I seeing this? What normal person acts like that?" And then I just found myself laughing at myself and feeling silly. I no more need a spring roll or dipping sauce than I need another hole in my head. But it was an interesting observation that merely eating in the presence of someone so aggressive with his food made me want to be faster and more greedy than I ever am under normal circumstances.

Next, the soup came out. We thought it was only for 2 but turned out to be about 5 bowls worth. The waitress brought us each a bowl and my grandfather portioned out some for himself and my grandmother. My cousin went next. I really didn't care for soup but I took a ladle of the broth and a wonton because honestly, it's easier than protesting that I didn't want any. Saying you don't want something in this family is somehow insulting even while wanting to eat something is usually frowned upon. It's a paradox I will never understand. My grandmother has a specific habit of commenting on the health of any food she may be eating, probably to not make herself feel so bad about it. So during the soup portion of the meal we got to hear about how light and healthy the broth was and how it was filled with cabbage and she should add more cabbage to her own broths because it's so healthy. I zoned out for a few minutes while everyone enjoyed (I assume) their soup.

Before we had even finished (ok, before I had finished) our soup, the main course arrived. Rack of lamb with a towering pile of fried rice for my grandparents and 2 plates of sushi (1 roll and 2 rolls accordingly) for myself and my cousin. I took 8 pieces total, knowing I could eat about 6, and left the other 14 for her, knowing my grandfather would likely poach off one of the rolls that didn't contain raw fish. He did, but only one piece which actually surprised me. Let me just say that I enjoyed my sushi immensely. I ate as slowly as I could and chewed it to oblivion which I have come to enjoy doing over my nearly 2 years since banding. I ate 5 of my 8 pieces and knew I'd have to take the rest home. While I tried to be in my own zen place and really enjoy the food to the fullest extent (and succeeded for the most part) I couldn't help but notice my grandfather's behavior from start to finish of his meal. For one thing, he eyed my cousin with a disapproving scowl nearly the whole time. He once in a while smiled at me. I wonder if this had anything to do with his earlier remarks about not recognizing me, me being only a "shadow of what I used to be", saying how great he thought I looked, and asking if my dad was happy with my new body (umm...inappropriate much?) I can only speculate. I don't know. My poor cousin does hear it from family members who compare us against each other since I lost a good deal more than her from my banding. She looks great and happy and I think she is beautiful and doesn't need to change a thing unless she wants to. I think her band will help her maintain her weight for life if she doesn't want to lose more and that's a real gift in and of itself. But anyway, I stray... Back to the meal. As soon as his plate came - oh well actually, as soon as the waitress brought 2 other plates to eat off of, and another trip to the kitchen for serving utensils, - my grandfather attacked the dish with a military-like precision. He gave my grandmother her portion of lamb and rice and then started doing his own. What I noticed throughout the rest of the meal is that he continued to come back to the large serving plate for more bits of this or that while my grandmother picked slowly at what was on her plate. I am not saying he didn't give her adequate food. No, there was just this authoritarian air that made me uncomfortable. I forgot that as soon as our sushi arrived he also started asking (well, that's putting it politely) for a piece of the roll without the raw fish.)

Now here is the most significant takeaway from the meal for me. I am normally very unattached to food. In my everyday life it's just food. I can take or leave most anything and always offer my friends and guests the "best" pieces because honestly, I can't eat so much anyway and I want them to enjoy it. Since getting banded, I tend to pick off other people's plates, take the scraps they don't want rather than wasting money to get myself a full dish (everyone is cool with this or I wouldn't do it.) So in general I'm just not possessive over food. But I wasn't always this way. It's been so long since I was I'd nearly forgotten but tonight a long buried instinct came flooding back. When our sushi arrived I split it between my cousin and I (not evenly, as I knew I couldn't eat as much as she could and didn't want to appear glutinous) but nonetheless I took what I wanted and made sure it was clearly "mine" as soon as possible. I silently begged my grandfather not to start taking any of "my" sushi even though as I already said, I had 3 more pieces than I was capable of eating. I fought myself the entire meal to eat slowly and carefully and not gulp it down out of fear of it being taken away from me should I not eat fast enough. The fact that that was actually a fear in my mind I had to fight against is truly messed up! I realized... this is why food became more than food to me. Food was such an implement of control in my childhood that no wonder I (a control freak) hoarded it, sneaked it, assigned value above and beyond what it did for me biologically to it. And I also realized that in this game, "winning" meant keeping what was "mine" despite the efforts of others to take it away. Eating all "my" food just to spite the person across the table who told me I shouldn't. Wow, how profound. How f-ed up! I hope I can continue to move towards a healthy and loving relationship with food as something of nourishment and enjoyment but not something to be controlled or used to control others. I am very proud of myself for being able to do so tonight despite being in a situation that brought out the opposite in me. Despite it all, I ate only what I actually wanted to eat and stopped when I was satisfied despite the urge to go further if only to insure it would be mine. It's such a drastic difference from how I normally am and how I am when surrounded by people for whom food is simply food and there's no need to go into predator mode to make sure I get my fair share. Now that I can see this for what it is, I think I will have an easier time controlling this behavioral urge in the future.

Anyway, the night ended fine. I got dropped back at my dad's house after dinner and have been relaxing online and writing since then. Writing is so therapeutic, I'm happy I could get this all out before it's time for another pain killer (which means sleep!)

Surgery day +4

I slept in this morning after quite an active day yesterday. You know what really sucks? The most painful thing I'm feeling is in my lower back from having to walk hunched over everywhere! I mean seriously! I just had major surgery and my sore muscles from the position I have to be in are what's bothering me? Arg...

Tomorrow I am going out to lunch with my grandmother and great-aunt/uncle. I know from yesterday that even my normally very loose size 12 jeans won't fit because of all the swelling and extra stuff I have around me. If I had any sense, I would ask to go out and get some stretchy jeans but I guess I'm going to tough it out and either wear sweat pants or just wear the jeans like I did yesterday, unbuttoned.

One really strange thing is that my appetite hasn't come back yet. I've been trying to get in enough protein bars and shakes so I'm nutritionally sound. Supplementing that with chicken soup and fruit when I feel like eating anything at all. Tonight I am planning on trying some ice cream that we bought. How could I not want ice cream?

I cannot wait to feel back to normal and have the energy to run around and do things. I miss being active and I miss being able to stretch out on the bed and feel all of my muscles instead of being squished on a recliner. But the recliner is very comfortable so it could be much worse if I didn't have it.

I am very ambitious but hoping that I will be able to get a few drains removed on Wednesday at my next post-op appointment. These things are so annoying. I guess I'm just feeling overall annoyed at the moment! Haha. That's what happens after a few days of recovery. I can see myself getting into trouble soon on online forums where I will start to cuss people out.

Surgery day +3

I woke up early this morning, afraid it was the middle of the night, but it was actually 6am. For the first time, cause I had no choice, I got out of my recliner by myself and went to the bathroom! Knowing now that I can get out of the recliner alone without too much trouble is a big relief. After the bathroom I decided to take 1 full loritab to get me back to sleep and pre-load me with some pain killer for the 8am drive to the doctor's office. I had a follow up appointment at 9am which went very well. I only wish he had wanted to remove 2 of my drains but he'll do that on Wednesday when I see him next. The car ride was easier than I anticipated... in fact everything has really been easier than I anticipated so far. At the office, the surgeon and his 2 assistants were very vocal about their pleasure with my results and me healing so far. I can't wait till I have some legitimate before/after pics to show but everything right now is still too gruesome and swollen to consider "after." But we can all see the potential for what it's going to be. I know I'm going to be so happy in a couple of months when all the swelling is down and I can wear my size 10 pants without a big bulge coming over the top. I can't help but think this surgery is going to change my life more than the first one did. Probably equally so.

Anyway, there isn't a whole lot to report about today except that things are going well. My drains are draining, I'm walking hunched over but without pain, I went to costco and whole foods and took a few car rides and now I'm back at my dad's house enjoying some chicken soup and thinking about a nap. I've also not taken any more loritab since 6am. I've done advil a couple of times since then but it would be so awesome not to be on narcotics except maybe to help me sleep comfortably through the night for a few days still.

I'm not bored yet, amazingly. Between talking to people online, web browsing, reading, tv, and sleeping, I am just enjoying being off work and being taken care of. I think yesterday was a real turning point for me in the healing and I know I'll say this over and over again but it's only going to get better from here.

I don't think I'll be riding a bike at day 6 like I was last time but I'll be up and at'em as soon as I can be.

Surgery day +2

I am sitting at my old room at my dad's house, in a comfy recliner, with tv and internet. I cannot complain. I've got pain pills that do their job and people taking care of me. I am very lucky indeed! The past couple of days have been rough - my surgery had me under the knife for 8 hours! A lot more than I had anticipated. But hopefully the results will really be worth it. In addition to the abdominoplasty (tummy tuck) I was expecting, I also had a small umbilical hernia repair done and at the last minute consultation with my surgeon, he suggested excising some skin from my upper chest area. I.e. my "side boobs" are now gone! I have only a preliminary picture of how my abdomen looks from the first time the surgeon removed the binding to change dressings. I certainly cannot believe it's actually me.

I would love to write about the whole experience but there isn't that much to tell. Got to the hospital at 6am on Tuesday and left around 6pm on Wednesday. That whole time is just a blur and I'm amazed it went as smoothly as it did. I credit a lot of that to my friends and family keeping me in their thoughts and prayers. I felt very surrounded by love and that does make a difference.

Now I am just lounging around trying to stay comfortable. The binders are TIGHT and can be a little hard to breathe. I ordered 2 from a site called makemeheal.com and am hoping to try out the zippered one later today and see if it's as comfortable as the reviews of it claim while still giving the amount of compression I need.

The most annoying thing so far is probably these drains. Ick! I am doing better than I thought though. Dealing with my own fluids isn't as bad as I had imagined. And I'm not draining all that much which is supposedly a good thing.

Here is the picture, it's a very preliminary one and I'm sure I'll have more and better ones tomorrow.



It doesn't look like much but to anyone who's known me and my bulging belly this is quite a difference!