Hello from Phat Browngurl – Week 1

Starting weight:  237.5

Today’s weight:  233

February 14th, 2011 – So yeah, I’m now 3 days out from my gastric sleeve surgery.  I gotta say, the recovery is nothing like having a C-section, but the pain is uncomfortable.  I’m bloated, so forgive me if I don’t show pictures yet, and still have my JP drain inserted into an incision on my left side.  Most of the pain comes from that, but going #2 would be awesome right now.

The hospital stay was shorter than normal, much to my now profound regret, and was filled with unreasonably good looking doctors and male nurses.  Either that or it was the drugs and boy was there a lot of drugs.  And shots.  And sleeping.  Usually shots while sleeping, which is fine with  me.  I went in early monday morning and was quickly and efficiently prepped and wheeled into the operating room.  They had given me something to relax me, but I was not prepared to see the OR and the vast sterility of it.  I was so scared out of my mind that I forgot the words to Doris Day’s song, “Que sera sera”.  I had planned on making it through the first verse:

When I was just a little girl
I asked my mother, what will I be
Will I be pretty, will I be rich
Here’s what she said to me.

But I got all befuddled and then the lights went out.

Next thing I remember is someone sitting next to me, trying to call my parents who were already in the hospital, therefore no cell signal.  After that was seeing my parents after being wheeled into my 7 north tower of Madigan Hospital on Ft Lewis army base.  I remember asking my mother to hold my hand and why my father was acting all irritated.  Dad gets irritable, but we love him for it.  The next 32 or so hours were spent in a haze until they released me on Feb 15th at 5:30 pm.  My mother is home with me now and my 3 year is old is driving her crazy.  My 11 year old saw it necessary to remain an uncooperative tween, complaining about not being driven to school and not being able to wear her favorite skinny gray jeans for the 4th day in a row.

All in all, I’m uncomfortable, not really in a lot of pain, but I’m minus 4lbs already and full after drinking 1 ounce.  Do I regret doing the surgery?  Right now?  Yes.  I love food.  Love it, wanted to marry it, and have its children.  American society revolves around food.  Tv, radio, internet – I see it everywhere and still want to shove it into my mouth.  I certainly hope this gets better than choking down a 1 ounce cup of clear brother every 30 mins.  I mean, I know it will, but again – I just anxiously await to go #2. =/