How will I know what a serving size is post-surgery — apparently it’s an ice cube of soup…seriously. I’m still trying to wrap my head around it. From everything I have read on the bariatric FB pages, this will take me plenty of time to get down. With my stomach now so small, and the trauma of surgery in general, my appetite should be pretty non-existent. That will be the initial challenge. Eating when absolutely NOT hungry. And sitting here, I cannot fathom being “absolutely NOT hungry.” But I know it will be truth soon enough, and I’m not complaining. It’s part of having this as a tool.
I’m finding as we get closer to my date others around me seem to be taking things a little more seriously. I can tell through their shear care for me there is concern. Not just of the surgery, but of life post-surgery. Mostly b/c I will eat so little.
I knew going in this would be both malabsorptive and malnourishing. That I would be on vitamin supplements for the rest of my life. I get it. It’s reality. I think it’s a little shocking to those who love me. But what is my alternative? To continue to struggle for the next 20-30 years the way I’ve struggled the first 40? It’s no way to live. And it’s not healthy. My BP was 156/96 at my final pre-op. So, even though I don’t technically have co-morbidity, I actually do. My BP is just the first sign. And as I said all the way back in my first post…heart disease should be an impetus for change. And it finally is.
On my hospital pre-op visit they took 11 viles of blood (no where near the record setting 16 from weeks prior). There are literally no secrets between me and my doctor. They even checked me for nicotine usage. I suppose if someone wanted to they could lie, but the blood work would prove them out. He was serious when he said no smoking.
Tonight is my last Happy Hour with the girls. At least for a year. That’s the other requirement — no alcohol for a year — no carbonation ever. No NSAIDS as well. These things tend to bother the stomach, irritate it, cause it to bleed. And I won’t have much there to irritate, so best to stay away. I don’t drink a lot. But I enjoy my wine and occasional whisky-based drink. I’m truly a social drinker. So, I don’t know that I’ll miss it — for Pete’s sake, I went 20 years without a drop — a year should be no problem.
I’ll be having dinner out on Sunday with my brother and SIL. My “last” dinner, I suppose. Where to go. I don’t have the desire to gorge. I don’t even really have a favorite restaurant, other than Union, and that’s where we went last time. Maybe White Chocolate Grill? Suddenly a simple decision feels overwhelming.
I’m looking forward to a fresh start. A new adventure. Being the me I am inside. I’ll keep this as updated as I can as I walk the path to better health.
Shrinking Shay 