Monday, June 30, 2014
417 North Sherman, North Platte, NE
A new start
On June 25, I underwent vertical sleeve gastrectomy. Essentially, 85 percent of my stomach was removed. This is a drastic weight-loss procedure, far more so than the Lap-Band that I had placed nearly four years ago. With the band, I lost 50 pounds, then had to have it unfilled and gained it all back.
This link explores the incredibly high failure rate of bands. In my case, it was a learned art that never took. I was either overfilled and miserable, unable to eat, or I was underfilled and so what the hell was the point of having the damn thing in my body?
At Thanksgiving 2011, I found myself in the emergency room at Kaiser Zion in San Diego getting completely unfilled. Then we went to Missouri for four months and I could EAT -- without puking -- and boy did I. I gained it all back in a matter of months and things were never the same.
Years later, I started thinking about the sleeve. Insomnia brought me to it, really. I would lie awake at night, tapping at my phone, thinking and wondering. Earlier this year I talked to Adam about a revision. We agreed it would be a good idea. Then I got the approval from my insurance company. We kept it quiet for a while, but before the surgery I spilled it all on Facebook because I knew I'd need the support. I couldn't be happier that I did. Everyone has been great.
I'm not going to lie: Surgery kind of sucked. I knew the minute I woke up in recovery that it was going to be a hard road. After the band I was joking about having Doritos WHILE IN THE RECOVERY ROOM -- no lie. This time it was far different, harder and more humbling. The first full day at Summit Medical Center in Oakland was completely challenging. I was nauseous and exhausted and all I wanted to do was go home, shower and have a good cry.
But now I'm five days out and nine pounds down. And if I feel good enough to pound this blog post out, I feel good enough to keep pushing forward. I plan to do just that.
This link explores the incredibly high failure rate of bands. In my case, it was a learned art that never took. I was either overfilled and miserable, unable to eat, or I was underfilled and so what the hell was the point of having the damn thing in my body?
At Thanksgiving 2011, I found myself in the emergency room at Kaiser Zion in San Diego getting completely unfilled. Then we went to Missouri for four months and I could EAT -- without puking -- and boy did I. I gained it all back in a matter of months and things were never the same.
Years later, I started thinking about the sleeve. Insomnia brought me to it, really. I would lie awake at night, tapping at my phone, thinking and wondering. Earlier this year I talked to Adam about a revision. We agreed it would be a good idea. Then I got the approval from my insurance company. We kept it quiet for a while, but before the surgery I spilled it all on Facebook because I knew I'd need the support. I couldn't be happier that I did. Everyone has been great.
I'm not going to lie: Surgery kind of sucked. I knew the minute I woke up in recovery that it was going to be a hard road. After the band I was joking about having Doritos WHILE IN THE RECOVERY ROOM -- no lie. This time it was far different, harder and more humbling. The first full day at Summit Medical Center in Oakland was completely challenging. I was nauseous and exhausted and all I wanted to do was go home, shower and have a good cry.
But now I'm five days out and nine pounds down. And if I feel good enough to pound this blog post out, I feel good enough to keep pushing forward. I plan to do just that.
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