Resurrection, indeed.

It's Easter Sunday. Where are my chocolate bunnies?!

Seriously, I'm actually feeling hunger today. I've been thinking about food non-stop, I've been walking better and faster, and the pain meds are really only taken at night to help me sleep. I may even skip them altogether tonight.

I just want a _________. Fill in the blank. Whatever food item in there. I'd even eat a mushroom at this point, something I'm only recently starting to enjoy.

I'm dreaming of mushies. Yummm, farina. Yummm, mashed potatoes with gravy. Beyond mushies, I was watching some terrible movie on Netflix instant and this guy was eating the most amazing, perfectly-cooked steak I'd ever seen [obviously not true, but to my hungry eyes it was]. I started salivating. Salivating!! Jeebus.

Given the fact that I've probably consumed about 200 calories a day for the past few days, and I'm healing, it's probably normal to feel hungry four days post-op. I did consume about 75% of an 11oz protein shake today. It took two separate meals, but I did it!

Tomorrow I'm calling the doc to see if it's okay to add some thinned farina to my regime. My drinking has improved vastly over the past few days. Less gurgles, and what does gurgle, I deal with. Burps are still painful, as is crying (watched To Kill A Mockingbird last night) and coughing (walking and reading out loud at the same time produced that).

I've been thinking, since today is Easter, that this surgery is sort of like my chance at resurrection. Death to an old life, birth to a new one. A healthier one. It also is not lost on me that my surgery date is exactly six months prior to my 30th birthday. I didn't plan it that way. It's a coincidence. But an interesting one. Half a year away from a new decade in my life. The end of my twenties. Look at how much time I wasted. Look at how much life I've wasted.

Just some clear liquid food for thought.

3 days post op!

I'm alive and doing well!

In the hospital, I had a great team. It's a teaching hospital and they do a fantastic job. I had an anesthesiology resident do my IV and it was flawless - probably the best I've ever had. Never felt a thing, going in, while it was in, coming out - no bruising either. Amazing.

My surgeon is very well-respected in the hospital and everyone I encountered had good things to say about him. Of course, I already knew that - why would I choose otherwise! Surgery lasted about 45 minutes from what I understand. I don't remember much of being in the recovery room, other than my mom was allowed in a few minutes at a time to visit and I didn't get a a bed in a room until 9:45 that night. My surgery was at about 2pm I think.

I do vaguely remember being extubated. I also remember panicking a lot when I woke up, and telling the doctor "panic.. pain.." I was given morphine, which helped a lot.

My roommate was a real pain in the ass, moaning like nobody's business. She sounded like a real wimp (this is my bitch coming out), complaining about EVERYTHING (I don't want that drug, it gives me gas, give me this other drug). She needed a NG tube and you would have thought she was 5 years old the way she carried on. I get it, we're in the hospital and we're in pain, but man up, lady! Put on your panties and let's GO.

I didn't have a pain pump (darn it), but every couple of hours when I was rounded on I asked for more drugs. I had fitful sleep, in and out, all night. My bed was nearest the door, and I had to ask the curtains be drawn so the hallway light wouldn't bother me. It really is true - you don't get any rest in a hospital.

Morning came eventually and I was whisked away for my gastrografin study. I had a couple of these when I was banded. They stand you up on a tilt table (this one was already tilted up), take a few x-rays of your belly, then have you take a small sip of the nastiest stuff you've ever tasted, then take more pics. When I was banded these were done to make sure my band hadn't slipped or eroded. Now that I'm sleeved with three rows (!) of staples through my stomach, gastrografin studies are done to ensure that my stomach is leak-free. So far, so good, said the doctor examining my pics. That's what I thought.

I went for a walk around my floor several times. I felt ok to walk. Then I got a visit from food services (after my surgeon saw me and my films). Here's what I got:

I sipped about half the decaf, sugar free iced tea - over about 5 hours. I tasted the chicken consommé and contemplated spitting it out. Of course, I didn't even open the jello. I was delighted to find italian ice on my tray! It took about an hour, but I got through about half of the 4oz italian ice. My mouth had been so parched from not drinking for 2 days. It was heavenly. Slow going, but heavenly.

I was contemplating asking for a second night stay at the 5-star hospital. I was concerned about hydration (no IV at home), pain meds (nothing is as good as what you get here) and all-around panic about taking care of my drain (yeah, I have a drain sticking out of me.. so sexy!). Doc came by and discharged me. Really no reason to stay.

(BTW, my GI doctor stopped by when I was in recovery and again the next morning when I was in my room. He did my endoscopy in prep for my band removal last fall, and he also did my colonoscopy. He's great! I love that he knows my surgeon's schedule and took the time - twice - to check on me. I really am lucky that I have such caring physicians.)

We got home around 6 and I headed for bed. It took over an hour to get home from the hospital and I was exhausted. I gave myself a sponge bath, washed my face, brushed my teeth, and with mom's help, built a pillow fortress in my bed. More like a nest than a fortress, but I digress. I made myself a roll-over-proof place to crash. I took 2 teaspoons of tylenol with codeine (see? not as good as dilaudid or morphine they give you in the hospital) and conked out. I woke up around 3am in pain, so I took a half dose of the tylenol. It helped and I slept until almost 8!

Yesterday I padded around the house, watched a movie (Morning Glory, thanks for askin!), took a dose of tylenol and took a nap. I walked around the living room. Mom made me some tea that took me hours to drink. I had some sugar free hawaiian punch that I could barely get in (really gross, that sugar free stuff. Nasty aftertaste and - TMI warning - that stuff gives me wicked gas. I can't tolerate sorbitol at all, and some other sugar substitutes are giving me grief too). I'm contemplating buying some G2 and cutting it with water. I think that will taste better.

I took a shower yesterday! It was glorious. Not glorious - having a drain. I had to take all the gauze and tape off and had to see the tube coming out of my skin. Gross. And of course, it made me so freaking nervous, klutz that I am, that I would yank on it accidentally. Knock wood - so far, I haven't done that.

Anyway, I'm on a clear liquid diet. Yesterday it was so difficult to drink. Every -tiny!- sip resulted in a massive amount of gurgling and a resultant painful burp from my new teeny tummy. I poked around on the VST website (a sort of social network for sleevies) and found that this is totally normal. It's uncomfortable, though, and it definitely hindered my fluid intake yesterday.

Had a bit of a restless night last night. Woke up this morning and saw that my urine was really dark, so I am bound and determined to get more fluid in today, gurgles be damned!

The fluid in my drain yesterday and the day before was really bloody (even clotty - eww). When I woke up today, it was clear yellow.

Uh-oh. Was that something I was supposed to be on red-alert for, infection-wise? Or was that dark yellow? I couldn't remember, and the panic on my face was clear. I called the doc's office (at 10am on a Saturday) and left a voicemail. Then I emailed the office with this picture and just explained that I need some reassurance. Here's the amazing part - and I'm not exaggerating - less than one minute after the email was sent, my phone rang. It was my surgeon, calling to tell me that it looks fine, good even! I'm still in shock that not all doctors live up to their nasty, standoffish reputations. My surgeon really cares about his patients. Even on the office voicemail, they give the doctor's personal cell phone number to reach him after hours. How awesome is that? I didn't use it because I knew this wasn't an emergency, but the fact that that's out there, well, that's just wonderful.

So now I'm hanging out in my mom's living room, sipping tea. Sip, sip, sip!

Here we go.

I'm in the car on the way to the hospital. Mom and my aunt are with me. I'm scared.

'Twas the night before surgery...

...and all through my brain, not a rational thought was stirring, not even "IT'S FOR YOUR HEALTH, STUPID!!"

I'm kinda freaking out.

My main three fears:

1) getting sick all the time like I was with my band.

2) surgical complications like a leak

3) needing to be out of work for more than a week/being completely unable to work next week (I took off 6 days) - especially since I've got a very high-stress job and I'm in the surgical closet.

Please God, I want to be NORMAL. I want to eat normal food like a normal human in normal portion sizes feeling normally FULL (whatever that feels like) and wear normal clothes and live an extraordinary life.

BTW, I'm fricking STARVING.

counting down the minutes

Things have been insane at work. Of course, as soon as I decide to take a week "off" (ha!), the world implodes. Great, more for me to worry about when I'm away.

I finished updating my living will (do you have one? you should). Had my roommate witness it. Got hugs and well wishes. Kinda weird, in a way.. like a last send-off, even though it isn't.

Today was my last day with food.. which included about a half dozen protein shakes

and a piece of grilled chicken at like 9:30 when I got home. Tomorrow I have to do clear liquids all day. I have tea (mint! organic! with a little caffeine) and a can of chicken broth. I need to get more at lunchtime. Deeeelish.

Allowing a little food

I'm a few days away from my surgery. I cannot live on liquids alone pre-op (I've done this a couple of times before, remember?) so I allow myself a piece of grilled chicken and a little Bibb lettuce once a day. I'll be doing all clear liquids the day before. But this was dinner:

How did I get here?

Where's my beautiful house?

I wonder all the time - how did I get here? Almost four years ago, I was banded. I was so hopeful. So determined. So.. naive.

After more than three years of eating more than I should one day and puking my guts out the next, I was genuinely worried. I had over a hundred adjustments on my band. I had two under fluoroscopy. No leaks, no slippages, no ulcers. Just weird fluctuations that never caused me to have the same day twice. It was infuriating and exhausting, not to mention disheartening.

I did research, as I tend to do, and decided to get rid of my band. There goes $20k, of course.. since I paid cash for my band (my insurance at the time was deplorable). No matter. Lessons learned. Besides, my band was the first and only tool I've used in my nearly 30 years on earth to lose and keep off 70lbs. That was the most weight loss my poor body had ever seen.

What I decided to do once my band was out was a whole other discussion.

Gearing up

I went to whole foods today. On liquids and feeling shite. Bought some organic chicken and this:

I'm still alive..

Update coming soon.

State probes weight-loss surgery deaths at NYU

State probes weight-loss surgery deaths at NYU: "

NEW YORK POST

State probes weight-loss deaths at NYU

By JOSEPH GOLDSTEIN

June 13, 2010

The state is investigating NYU Medical Center’s booming weight-loss surgery practice, after three patients perished — including a young lawyer who may have died of thirst — following bariatric procedures, the Post has learned.

Drs. George Fielding and Christine Ren-Fielding, the glamorous husband-and-wife team in charge of the NYU unit, pioneered lap-band surgery — in which a silicone band is looped around the stomach — and performed it on Jet coach Rex Ryan.

“We’re investigating the entire bariatric program” at NYU, said state Health Department spokesman Jeffrey Hammond.

The probe began within the last two weeks following complaints from ex-patients, a source said. The Post exposed new malpractice allegations against the Fieldings last week.

Weight-loss surgery is under scrutiny in New York, and new dangers are being alleged in litigation, including:

* At least six malpractice claims against the Fieldings — one brought by ex-Met Lee Mazzilli, after his teenage daughter was hospitalized with stomach “perforations.”

* 15 lawsuits against gastric-bypass surgeon Elliot Goodman at Manhattan’s Beth Israel Medical Center in five years.

* Allegations that a Westchester hospital hid the weight of a patient — who later died — to qualify her for surgery.

Even as the feds consider making weight-loss surgery more accessible — with lap bands for teens and patients on the cusp of obesity — long-term risks are only now coming to light, nine years after FDA approval.

“The long-term risk of the band may be as high as 25 percent,” said Dr. Paresh Shah, a surgeon at Lenox Hill Hospital.

Studies show the death rate for bariatric surgery is under 2 percent, but the research rarely accounts for deaths from complications after 30 days.

Christine Ren-Fielding admitted in an academic article that because some patients die months afterward, “the incidence of bariatric deaths in New York City is practically unknowable for us.”

“After the surgery, [doctors] just sort of wipe their hands,” said Lara Quatinetz, whose sister, Rebecca, 27, was found dead in her Stuyvesant Town apartment two months after NYU gave her a lap band in May 2008.

The young lawyer, who wanted to lose weight she’d gained while studying for the bar, couldn’t swallow food or water for days on end, lawyer Howard Wexler claimed.

He claimed the band was cinched so tight — despite adjustments made during six post-op visits — that solids and liquids did not reach her stomach.

The Fieldings didn’t respond to requests for comment, but George Fielding has claimed his NYU Program for Surgical Weight Loss, which operates on almost 1,000 patients annually, has “the lowest death rate in the world, in the history of bariatric surgery.”

The Fieldings “are incredibly competent surgeons,” Lenox Hill surgeon Mitchell Roslin said. “I would let either of them operate on me.”

Bariatric procedures — which are advertised in city subways and take as little as 20 minutes to perform — are big moneymakers. NYU billed Rebecca Quatinetz more than $26,000. Surgeons say their cut is often around $4,000.

Critics worry greed has led to surgeries on patients with less-than-severe weight problems.

Joan Delango said that one clinic told her daughter, Danielle, that she didn’t need a lap band but that Danielle, 25, got one at Lawrence Hospital Center in Westchester in 2008. Six weeks later, she died after collapsing in her bathroom, said Delango, who has filed a suit.

At the time of her death, Danielle weighed just 156 pounds, Delango said. Delango alleges that Danielle was listed as being shorter and fatter than she was so the surgery looked better to insurers and regulators.

On Danielle’s presurgery form — which the Post obtained — a doctor wrote, “Do not weigh patient.”

“I believe they changed her height and her weight to change her ideal numbers,” Delango said. “Why else would you not want to weigh her?”

"