Day Three of a Lifelong Journey

On Friday, May 22nd, 2020 I had gastric sleeve surgery. I call that Day 0. My husband and I woke at 3:30 AM (after going to bed at 2:00 AM because we were both anxious and kept ourselves distracted by watching a movie. 

We arrived at the hospital at 5:00 AM wearing our surgical masks as instructed and both had our temps taken and used hand sanitizer as required. I was feeling a little woozy. I thought maybe it was from low blood sugar but once I was back in the pre-op area they did a finger stick which read 154... so I guess not. Perhaps wonky blood pressure or just re-breathing CO2 from wearing the mask constantly. 

They took me back rather promptly at 7:30 AM and I scooted over onto the bed with the foot rest and arms in a weird crucifixion pattern. My husband had mentioned that I would not be lying flat, that I'd be at an angle, which I hadn't read before, but the foot rest seemed to indicate that I would indeed be at an angle. The anesthesiologist was rather stoic until he asked me to take some deep breaths; apparently he didn't expect me to be able to inhale that well and his praise encouraged me to keep at it. The struggle I had waking out of the anesthesia makes me wonder if I over did it. It felt like drowning in sleep. I never have struggled that hard to wake up. The surgery was supposed to be over around 9:30 AM. Through bits of consciousness in post-op, I remember hearing "stay the night" and "tachycardia" and myself saying "it hurts" and "too many crunches" because my upper chest muscle just below my breast bone area felt as if I had done too many crunches or sit ups. At one point I imagined that I had been hanging from my rib cage on a meat hook during the surgery. It was not an intense pain, but a deep, persistent ache. I realize now it's probably because of the gas they inflate the abdomen with so they have room to work in there. 

When I eventually woke up enough to be able to be transferred to an ambulatory care room around 11:15, whatever nurse was with me said, "You'll be staying the night," which felt like a failure. The plan, because of the COVID-19 pandemic, was to send me home the same day. I was concerned that I had tachycardia during the procedure or something. It got a little confusing and I was still sort of out of it and of course my husband was waiting outside in the car because of restrictions. (If he couldn't be by my side, he didn't want to sit in a waiting room of strangers and possibly get infected.) I felt like garbage mostly from the anesthesia and from not sleeping the night before. 

I took a nap and by around 2:00 PM was feeling much improved. That's when it was suggested that I could possibly go home if I wanted to. It was up to me. I don't like decisions like that being left up to me. Tell me I'm well or tell me I'm not. When I'm feeling poorly, I'd rather the doctor decide. I said I would maybe want to go home if I felt better in a few hours. What I didn't realize until I was told later, was that I needed to make a firm decision so they could order my prescriptions and send them to the pharmacy for me to pick up. They also said they wouldn't really be doing anything extra for me other than administering medications and keeping me comfortable, and I could probably rest better at home in my own bed. So then I made the decision to go home. It was probably 7:30 PM when I was wheeled out to the car. 

I'm sure I did rest better than I would have in the hospital bed because there were constant beeps, boops, and bangs in the hospital. The main difference is that oral meds aren't as effective as IV meds and you have to wake up to take them. Instead of a nurse sliping me some meds while I lay there vaguely aware of her presences, I had to wake up at 3AM myself and take them. My husband was wonderful. He typed up a timeline of when everything had to be taken and set alarms on his phone for all dosing times. I was prescribed the following:

• Hydrocodone syrup for pain
• Silace liquid stool softener (I'll come back to this one...) 
• Ondanzatron AKA Zofran anti-nausea medicine. (We called it Tony Danza)
• Lansoprazole AKA Prevacid for reflux because if you didn't have it before, gastric sleeve surgery will often give it to you. 
• Dexamethazone, a steroid. The nurse in ambulatory care told me the patients who get the steroid tend to do better; I'm thankful I was getting it. 

So yeah, after a couple of days we were flipping exhausted from maintaining that schedule around the clock. Thankfully our little girl was able to spend several nights with Grammie, but she kept FaceTiming us that she missed us. :( 

Now, back to that Silace. It is the most disgusting thing I have ever tasted in my life, period. The first time I took it, it said "mix as directed," but there were no mixing directions on the bottle. I took it straight, no chaser. I gagged and it burned and it was HORRIBLE. Then I found the other bottle that said "mix with 6-8 0z of milk or juice." Leslie Knope's reaction after her first swig of Swanson mash liquor in the old fashioned prairie drink off pretty much sums up how I feel about the Silace. After that, I began mixing it with my Premiere Protein Clear punch, but it still tasted like poison. The prescription was to take 10mL twice a day for 30 days and I knew I couldn't do it. After a couple days of torture I called the office and they told me that since my bowels had begun moving again, I didn't have to take it anymore. Praise God! 

Eventually, the five medications dwindled down. I didn't feel like I needed the hydrocodone anymore so I stopped taking it. The other prescriptions ran their course. Now I'm down to just the Lansoprazole every morning. That alone is a relief. 

Above: The day before my surgery.

Shortly after being taken back to pre-op.

All prepped and waiting to be taken back for my 7:30AM surgery.

In post-op ambulatory care feeling miserable and exhausted from not sleeping the night before.

Working on my "Go-home goals."

Feeling much better around 2:00PM.

Check and done!

Five incisions covered in glue and some bruising where I was given injections of blood thinner to prevent blood clots. We took photos so if there were changes (like infection) we'd have something to compare it to.