Tag Archives: transformationthroughloss

6 Weeks: Getting Stronger **Graphic Images**

6wkjean
These are suppose to be my ‘goal jeans’ but I can button em soooo I wore them out yesterdays. Bam! Holy booty batman. Size 29 low rise bell bottom jeans!

These last two weeks have seemed to drag on and pass too quickly all at the same time. Physically, I’m getting stronger. I feel a little better; a little more like myself each day. I haven’t been sleeping too well lately. I know I have a lot on my mind. Like I said in my previous post, March is an emotionally heightened month for me.

I can’t believe in just a couple weeks, I’ll be 30 and Paul and I would have celebrated our 4th wedding anniversary. It’s rough to think about. And still seems unreal. His picture sits on our mantle and sometimes I just look at it and kinda have a conversation with him. I don’t believe he is here in any sense other than my own memories and the memories of others; but there’s some type of comfort in ‘talking’ to him. I was doing my crunches the other day and I looked up and saw that picture: I was like bet you’d never believe you’d see me doing this so diligently. And I kinda chuckled. Then I was sad. I’m sad now.

Lisa and I just celebrated our 1st anniversary. Wow. Let that sink in. I can’t believe it’s been a year; in so many aspects. She is incredible. We have such a good time together. We don’t fight or argue. We don’t lack passion. She gets me. We just enjoy each other’s company. She makes me want to keep pressing forward and supports my healthier lifestyle (even when I don’t want to). We have already had so many adventures and both ventured outside of our comfort zones and never once regretted it. We are going to the Bahamas in less than 2 weeks and we are beyond thrilled. On the flip side, it’s been a year that I’ve been with someone other than Paul. It’s been 480 days since I saw Paul; since I heard his voice. I think he’d want me to be happy. In fact, I know he would. Despite knowing this, it doesn’t make it any easier. I miss that goofy guy.

I have had several follow ups with my physicians and had my concerns addressed. I spoke to my primary doctor about my weight (number) obsession and where I need/supposed to be. She told me that she thinks it is absolutely reasonable to get to a weight which would allow me to NOT have a diagnosis (i.e. overweight). According to the BMI, she would like to see me at 147lbs. I am currently weighing in at about 158. As per my plastic surgeon, I am ‘allowed’ to lose up to 12lbs without worry of disrupting my plastic surgery. And I have, approximately, 7-10 lbs of skin left to remove. Anyways, those are the numbers. I know a lot of you don’t agree with watching the numbers. But when we completely ignore the numbers, it’s easier to slip. It’s easy to add a lb here, a lb there until we have now packed on 20 lbs or more. I’ve done it so I know first hand. The scale is not a measurement of who you are. It is merely a measurement of how much you LITERALLY weigh. I choose to use it as an accountability tool; not as a means to define me as a person but, rather, as way to keep me on the track I worked so hard to be on. My dietitian and exercise physiologist have agreed that weighing weekly is a good way to stay on track. It works for me. So that’s what I plan to do.

6 weeks

My plastic surgeon told me that the skin at my elbows is normal and allows room for my elbow to bend. I didn’t really  believe him so I’ve been checking out EVERYONE’S elbows that I pass. And, more often that not, that skin is there except on the very skinny people. Weird. I’ve never noticed before. He told me to continue to take it easy on my arms, that they are healing still, and to pay close attention to my elbows as to not bump them. That piece of skin under my right arm is a ‘dog ear’ which is a fairly common complication with skin removal. He told me that it’s easily fixed in the office but would like to give my body 8 more weeks to heal. My right boob is so much better. The bruising is gone but it hasn’t completely settled down. It’s still sore and hurts. My t-rex arms are getting better. I can reach things a lot better now. I’m still numb on the lower half of both breasts and the backs of my arms. It makes it difficult to get comfortable. I still am having to sleep on my back and prop my arms on pillows to be comfortable. It’s difficult to explain. It’s not necessarily painful (on my arms; it is on my right boob) to put pressure on it; it’s just weird because it’s numb. Like, I can feel, internally, that pressure is being put on my arms but I can’t actually feel it superficially. It’s not a pleasant sensation.

Arm progression
I’m super pleased with my arm incisions and my range of motion is improving.
6wk
Going out for the first time since surgery. First time EVER to go out without a bra!!

I’ve stayed on track with exercising. I’ve done a minimum of 200 crunches every night for over 2 weeks. I’ve now incorporated arm training and squats (alternating days). It feels pretty good. I’m really hoping to get more consistent on my morning walks but I’ve just been so tired from not sleeping well that it hasn’t been happening like I’d like it to but I do plan on going tomorrow morning.

2 weeks_ 200 crunches
Not noticing much progression but I’m feeling better.

4 Weeks: Looking Forward **Graphic Images**

20160218_204626 (1)

Four weeks has flown by! Successes and struggles continue. My boob is doing so much better. The bruising has ALMOST completely resolved. I have slight pain and itching to the incisions under my breast. I’m out of my compressions more than I’m in them. Sports bras are AMAZING! It’s so odd to not HAVE to have an under wire bra. My incisions are so awesome. I’m beyond pleased with their progress. My surgeon did such an amazing job! On the flip, I tried going a whole shift at work (10+ hours) with no compressions and I discovered new pains! On my right arm, I feel tightness and a poking sensation. And you can see bumps proximal to my incision. And guess what? They are my internal sutures trying to kill me from the inside out! Bastards. Oh man. It’s torturous. I called my doc who told me they are semi permanent sutures and will take 4-5 months to dissolve! Ugh. Until then, he told me to take it easy, to realize that I’m still healing and to rub the bumps in an attempt to move the sutures (Ouch!). Which I did trrrrry but it hurts and it doesn’t help. Bleh. So, at work, I have been wearing my compressions or a long sleeve shirt at work and that does help.

20160218_185921
Bumps proximal to incision=internal sutures trying to poke through.

Skin problems: My elbows hurt. I have a patch of skin on both sides that ever so slightly hangs over my elbows when in full extension. It’s uncomfortable and my left one just constantly feels bruised; although, it isn’t. Then in the crease of my right arm pit is some extra skin. The best way I know to describe it is that it’s like this bunch of skin that is being CONSTANTLY pinched when my arm is down and, especially, when moving frequently. I have a follow up with my surgeon today to discuss these issues. He’s just gonna love me.

20160218_190034
Close up of elbow skin!

 

 

20160218_204910
Elbow skin and incision to sides. My arm covers this incision when down straight!

 

 

 

 

 

 

20160218_190142
Elbow skin.
20160218_190100
That little bit of skin over the elbow is annoying.

 

 

 

 

I’m feeling better about my body. I’m able to look at myself in the mirror and rub lotion/oil on my incisions without incidence of anxiety. I’m feeling more confident about the way that I look. This has been an ongoing struggle for me. It really is a constant battle. I am constantly having to check myself and others are having to as well. I have to really take a step back and look at the big picture. A friend said it best yesterday: “Jessica, you’re looking for perfection and there just isn’t”. She is so right and I’ve said it MANY times to other people. I’m really working on trying to be happy where I am right now. I’m at a healthy weight. My blood pressure is normal. My heart rate has gone from resting rate of 90-100 to 65-75! I’m the smallest I’ve ever been. I feel good. I have more energy than I’ve even had in my entire life. I can, literally, do sooo many things I’ve never been able to do.

I’m a very goal oriented person. I like structure and I like to have a plan. Some may call me neurotic but, eh, it’s part of my charm. So, new goals; new, non-number goals. All my life it’s been “if I could just get under 300 lbs; under 200 lbs; under 175lbs” “if only I could lose 20lbs; 50 lbs; 100lbs; 175lbs” “if only I could shop in the regular section” “if only I wasn’t out of breath walking at walmart”–well, hey, done. Next! I’m looking towards my big surgery: 360 abdominoplasty. I’ve resolved that I will not rush this as I had anticipated doing. My boss said it best when she told me “you have the rest of your life to look the way you want to look”. Truth. While I recognize this, I’m also ready to be done. Ya know? I’m ready to be done with this chapter. I’ve decided to focus my energy on feeling the best I can; focusing on toning my body and getting it ready.

A bariatric surgery friend of mine had a tummy tuck without muscle tightening (which is when they stitch your abdominal muscles together) which is fairly standard, especially during tummy tucks of the female patient. She reports having better results and less recovery. This is the ideal. I asked her how she prepared and she did 200 crunches for 1 year. That night, I started doing 200 crunches! Ouch. Talk about burn. {Although, now that I think of it–maybe I should increase it to 250 since I only have about 9 months.} But that’s my new plan and goal. Collage 2016-02-18 20_29_31

Toning what I have. I’m not a cardio junkie. Okay let’s be real here, I LOATHE exercise but I recognize and respect the importance of it’s incorporation into a healthy lifestyle and body! My amazing girlfriend is doing it with me :) Yay us. I’ve, also, started doing some arm exercises (just with 2 lb weights–that feel like 8 lb weights on these weak arms).

Looking forward: should be (hopefully) coming off of my weight restrictions soon. March is a big month for me: new semester at school, Lisa and I’s anniversary, Paul and I’s wedding anniversary, my 30th birthday and our Bahamas trip! I’m already feeling the effects of my emotions. I expect them to heighten. I just hope I can control them.

20160224_065607
Bought myself a size 6 pair of jeans for New York & Co. Kinda a big deal. But I’m really a size 8 but these have a lil stretch :)

 

Learning to Dance with a Limp

What is significant about today? Nothing really. I woke up. Finished a research paper. Did some dishes. Binged on some Netflix.

I woke up in a not so great mood. Not a bad mood. Just an off mood. I felt good about finishing my paper (a whole day ahead of deadline-woot to me). I got a new dishwasher and it is fantastic. Netflix is always good because it comes with Mollie cuddles.

I woke up on this day about 3 times; each time sad. I thought about nursing school. I thought about seeing that dishwasher during the walk through on our house. I thought about other shows I’ve binged on.

Today, I woke up with a heaviness on my chest. I miss the time of nursing school (not ACTUAL nursing school, just to be clear).  The old dishwasher used to be new. I thought of Scandal.

On this day, like too many before and so many more to come, I miss Paul. It’s days like these that I literally have to tell myself to breathe. And I literally think through the process of breathing: the air breathed in and my lungs full and the action of exhale. I miss nursing school because that’s the time where Paul and I spent two years of our life. We got married during nursing school. Seems that the peak of many of mine/our friendships were during that time. We had a Friday date every week while this house was being built to visit it and check the progress. It held such promise. Promise of a great future. And so soon, that fucking dishwasher crapped out; much like Paul’s heart crapped out far too soon! And sometimes when I sit on this couch that I love but Paul never knew, I can’t help but miss making him watch Scandal with me. And how on every episode, he would say ‘if Liv cries…one more time…I’m done’. And every night, we’d watch the next and you know, she cries like every episode.

I miss him beyond belief. It’s amazing to me how I live each day and most days I’m happy but I’m always sad to some extent. And, man, days like today, when the house is quiet and I have nothing but the thoughts in my head, the memories to recall, his picture staring at me from the mantle–I have to remind myself to breathe. There was a time that at moments like these that I fought my tears and choked down how I feel. But now, I allow myself to cry and I let myself feel my heart ache. I let myself grieve. But only when I’m alone. I feel like it’s really the only appropriate time.

And somehow in the midst of my blubbering, I stumbled across this quote:

“You will lose someone you can’t live without,and your heart will be badly broken, and the bad news is that you never completely get over the loss of your beloved. But this is also the good news. They live forever in your broken heart that doesn’t seal back up. And you come through. It’s like having a broken leg that never heals perfectly—that still hurts when the weather gets cold, but you learn to dance with the limp.”

Anne Lamott

And I’ve read it about 10 times. I love it. It’s so very true. So many times people say to me “I don’t know how you survived. I couldn’t have. I would have died or I would have to be committed”. I always think to myself “What a waste if everything we shared were to have died…with him; with me”. So I trudge on. I take him with me. I speak of him often. I think of him daily; sometimes hourly; sometimes the moments consume me completely.

I love you, Paul.

Boobies on the Mend: 3 Week Post Op & Reflection

Oh man. Where to start? It’s a long week or so.

Let’s start with my physical stuff. So, my right boob has been concerning. On February 2, my supervisor went to take her jacket off, turned and accidentally ‘punched’ me in my right boob. If you recall, my right boob required more reconstruction than my left and has been more painful and not exactly aesthetically pleasing. When this happened, it knocked the wind out of me. I didn’t really put 2 and 2 together at my 2 week post op appointment when the medical assistant questioned the new bruising on the 4th. At work the following day is when I realized the two were linked so I called my doc. The bruising progressively worsened and they wanted to see me the following week. I had my 3rd week follow up this past Wednesday day. He squeezed and manipulated my breasts. It was awkward since I don’t have feeling superficially to below my nipple. He told me I had 2 hematomas and that he could feel that an internal suture(s) ripped causing the bleeding. He needed to evacuate it! He stuck a 2 in. 18 gauge needle through my incision around my nipple and moved the needle around, pulled back on a 20 ml syringe trying to find the pocket. He got out 5 mls of dark red blood. Nothing else. He felt again and said he need to try again but would have to go through the breast. Eek. He attempted 3 additional sticks. Ouch. Although I have no feeling on the surface, I do have deep sensation. I started to sweat and turned ghost pale. He wasn’t able to get anything else out, sadly. He told me to just watch it and that it’d hopefully resolve. He was concerned regarding the possibility of infection. Since my appointment, my bruising has significantly reduced and the color is now green so I’m happy about that. His assistant called me yesterday to check on me and my doctor is still concerned so he has started me on a round of antibiotics. Better safe than sorry.

3WeeksPostOp (2)
Current boobies! Bruising is SOOO much better today! The itching has begun! 2/14

3WeeksPostOp (1)

Otherwise, my incisions are healing well, I’m sleeping better (no more night sweats), I’m rarely requiring tylenol and the tape residue is ALMOST gone. My incisions are so fine and I’m excited to see the end result. The only source of pain is still under my arms. Constant bending of the incisions and chaffing is sometimes unbearable! My doctor told me it was my compression garment so I’ve tried just sleeves. Nope. I’ve tried gauze. Nope. I’ve tried bandaids which have helped the most buuuut then they chaff my actual armpit. Ugh. The struggle. Now, I’m using zinc oxide (baby butt paste which is helping). My 4 weeks is Tuesday and I no longer have to wear my compression sleeves unless I want to! That’s exciting and no compression garments does feel best on my underarms. Although, I still don’t have feeling to my incision sites to about a quarter inch on both side of it so it’s a weird sensation. And it makes me paranoid that it’ll rub on somethings so I’m now wearing long sleeves and I foresee me wearing compressions at work this week but we will see.

3WeeksPostOp (8)
3 Week Arm Incisions are faint!!
3WeeksPostOp (7)
The arm crease is the most painful. Still numb on the underside of my arm.

 

3WeeksPostOp (4)
Exciting! I get to wear a bra!

3WeeksPostOp (3)

I had my first therapy session post operatively. It was much needed and very over due. I feel like I word vomited all over her the moment my booty hit the couch. I’ve been struggling. My anxiety has been on high. Feeling a bit depressed. Feeling upset that I’m upset. And isn’t that some shit? Not only to have these feelings but to, also, have feelings about the feelings. It’s a bitch! I’ve been missing Paul more intensely. I feel guilty. I feel alone. It’s all a bit over whelming really. In my session, I said multiple times “I’ve wanted this as long as I can remember and these feelings are absurd. ABSURD!” Her first response to me “how about you give yourself permission to feel the way you feel?” I sat back. Sighed. And thought ‘well isn’t that a novel idea?’ Ha ha. It’s literally never occurred to me. And I let that thought soak in and I said ‘okay’. As she summed up what I said, the series of events is very overwhelming and the thought comes to me ‘well holy fuck dude. That’s kinda like a lot’. And Lisa has told me most of these things but I guess there’s just something about the third party, impartial somebody saying it that makes it stick. She reinforced that my mind, my heart, my body has been through a lot in this past year. She told me that I’m now having to grieve the loss of my ‘body’ while in the midst of grieving over my husband. It’s okay to be upset. It’s okay to say I’m not where I want to be. And in the moments of chaos, it’s hard to realize that it won’t always be this way. I won’t ALWAYS feel this way. I won’t ALWAYS feel out of control. Eventually, it will pass. She also brought up the point that I’m not as active as I’m used to being which effects my mind and body. I’m a very independent person that is temporarily at a point where I’m having to ask for help and not in a big way…in the small ways and that has an impact. Man oh man. I needed that reality check.

My mom gave me this little sign over a year ago that says: “You can do ANYTHING. You just can’t do EVERYTHING”. I think I have to realize and accept my limitations. I have to learn to be okay with them as they are a part of me and make me human.

3WeeksPostOp (5) 3WeeksPostOp (6)

Where’s my satisfaction? Where’s my happiness?

**Right boob update: so the mystery is solved. I had forgotten that 3 days ago, a co-worker accidentally punched me in the right boob. I was following behind her and she went to take off her jacket and **whack** right in the right boob where all the bruising is! It knocked the wind outta me. I’m thankful that we figured this out. And don’t be hard on my co worker–it was totally an accident, she’s amazing! She even drew on my boob to outline the bruise so I could track it’s progression/regression!

“Wow” “I don’t even recognize you” “You look amazing” “You have done so much”. These are all common compliments I get from a multitude of people. I wanted to take a moment and just thank everyone for all of the support. I truly appreciate it.

IMG_20160204_130442
Size 7/9 jeans. Low Rise.

 

Today, I visited my old floor. I transferred about 4 months ago. It always feels like home when I visit even though there are so many new faces. When I visit, I always hope for some juicy trauma drama gossip but my weight loss and surgery usually are the topic. I’m sure that’ll change over time. I enjoy talking about my journey; it’s been a long one. I love talking with these wonderful women who have known me since 2013 and have seen me at my heaviest and they were there when I started my weight loss journey and when Paul died, they were there to pick to me up. They have shown me unconditional love and compassion and support and I’m eternally grateful to these wonderful ladies. So, it should not come at any surprise that they are all just so absolutely supportive and positive towards me and the progress that I’ve made with my health, weight and body transformation.

Today, I was met with all smiling faces and kind words. I have been just a bundle of emotions  since the beginning of the year (well, really since November 12, 2014–if I’m totally honest) and it has peaked since having surgery. I’ve touched on it a bit in a previous blog but this plastic surgery has really messed with my head. I was fully prepared for pain and recovery; I wasn’t prepared for exhaustion and mental torture. Okay, maybe that’s a bit dramatic, but, at times, that’s exactly what it feels like. I was all ready to knock this plastic surgery out and get to where I want to be but I’ve had a reality check.

I’m struggling with my identity and who I see in the mirror. I will never forget: standing in the shower. Naked. Lisa standing by to help me get my bandages/dressings off. I felt the water run down my body. I look to my left and, in the mirror, there she is; that girl. Frankenstein girl. Incisions. Perky boobs. Thin arms. I can see a her rib cage. And the room spins. I’m dizzy. Disoriented. My hearing is muffled. I’m slightly nauseated. And, for a second, I thought I’d pass out. Lisa helped me to the bed. I can’t remember the steps between the shower and my bed. And I laid on my back, on my bed, eyes shut. And I hear her calm voice, “it’s okay. I’m here”.

I’ve worked so hard and made a lot of sacrifices to get where I am today. I feel like my whole life has built to this point. I loved Paul; I love Paul. I will say it over and over because it is always true and pertinent. Although, as most know, it was never my ‘dream’ to get married or to have a family. Don’t get me wrong, I just want to be clear; I’ve said it many times: he was the dream I never knew I wanted; he was a love I never knew existed and, not for one second, have I ever regretted any moment we had together. That aside, you know what my dreams were? I wanted to be a successful career woman, self-sufficient and THIN. That’s what I wanted. Maybe it seems a bit shallow, but having been the fat girl for as long as I can recall…I wanted that. I wanted to look like the ‘regular girls’. I wanted to feel comfortable in my skin. I wanted to travel and not think about my hips squeezed into an airplane seat. And, now…I have that. Where’s my satisfaction? Where’s my happiness? That’s what was supposed to happen, right? I’ve shed the weight. I’ve met every one of my weight loss goals. I’ve got these perky boobs and slender arms. My god man; it’s, literally, all I’ve ever dreamed it could be.

My former co-worker and I were chatting. She said some things that really shook me. She described her impression of me, of first knowing me. (I’m paraphrasing) ‘To look at you, you were this shy, timid girl and now I see this confident girl that shines’. I was taken aback because I don’t know when that happened. I guess although I have these mounds and mounds of self-doubt that there is something under there. I just gotta dig it out. So, that gives me hope. Maybe I can’t see it quite yet but others do and that gives me hope.

It really is a constant battle; between what you think you want, what you actually want and what actually is. I’m so thankful for all these wonderful people in my life. Without you, I don’t know where I would be.

Copy of Collage 2015-12-23 08_39_03

2 Week Post Op Appointment: tape removed!

Today was my 2 week post op appointment. Sadly, less than an hour before my appointment, my surgeon’s office called and said that he wasn’t able to make it to clinic. Eek! Long story short, I saw his medical assistant instead.  She removed the surgical tape which has been causing quite a bit of discomfort. I was quite nervous about this but it wasn’t painful. It felt weird actually. She was pretty concerned regarding the bruising on my right breast. She took pics and sent them to my surgeon who wanted to know what I did. To my recollection, I haven’t done anything. He had told me that he had to do a lot of work to that breast so I thought it was normal. He wants to see me next week to further assess. I’m to take daily pictures to compare the progression of the the bruising. Man, I surely hope I don’t have a complication…because I don’t have any PTO. Blah.

Physically, I feel pretty good. This week is substantially better than last week. My night sweats have decreased to maybe just once a night. I’m still feeling weak and am exhausted by the end of the day but it’s better than last week. I’m down to 1-2 doses of acetaminophen daily. I’m able to shower fairly easily. Not able to shave yet. I can almost fully extend my left arm but my right arm is lagging. It’s my T-rex arm. I now have sensation to both of my nipples but I remain numb in many places including the underside of both breasts and the underside of my arm from axillary to elbow.

Psychologically, I’m progressing. It’s not near as severe as it was the days following surgery. I’m able to look at myself in the mirror and not cry. That seems so odd. Can you imagine? I’ve been working towards this for what seems like forever and I’m satisfied with the fact that I’m not crying when I look at myself. That’s infuriating. In my rational mind, I know that it’ll take time. Lisa pointed out that it’s like you have to mourn that person that you no longer are and I can see that. I’m missing Paul more so recently. I’m sure for many reasons. Valentine’s Day, our anniversary, my 30th birthday, this surgery, etc. It has stirred me up. I’ve made an appointment with my therapist for next week. I need some guidance with my struggles lately.

I took measurements today.

PreOperatively: Bust: 36 Band 32 Arm 13

Today PostOp: Bust 37 Band 32 Arm 11

I’m hoping there’s swelling that will subside but dang. I was expecting a smaller bust. We shall see.

The medical assistant said to remove the tape residue before posting my eh, I wanted to blog now. I’m so very impressed with the incisions. They are so fine. Once everything is healed they’ll be barely noticeable. She did tell me to stay away from vitamin E as it can actually cause the scars to widen! What?! She recommended cocoa butter and baby oil. Which most of the cocoa butter I found at Target had vitamin E. Luckily, I found a baby oil gel with cocoa butter. BAM! Also, I can now where a sports bra with no wire with arm compressions, technically. Although, I know I’d have a difficult time with a pull over and I don’t have the arm sleeves.

Thanks for reading. Here’s to date progress pics.

Right breast is significantly bruised. MD is concerned. Watching it closely.
Incisions are so fine!! Will clean up the residue this weekend. So happy to have the tape off!

Back to work! Now, 2 weeks Post Op **GRAPHIC PICTURES**

I went back to work this week. I worked 3 days (my usual work week is four 10 hour days). I tell you what, it was rough. I overestimated myself. I, of course, want to be brutally honest. So bare with me.

It’s a struggle to do just the bare minimum. And, by this, I mean to dress myself. It’s truly a work out. Just getting from a sitting to standing position is a challenge. I truly have learned that I need to do more abdominal work outs. I plan to hit it hard core and be in the best abdominal shape of my life for my 360 abdominoplasty. You don’t really know how often you use your arms until you can’t use them anymore. I, also, am not able to fully extend my arm so reaching things is a challenge. I joke that I’m a turtle (but seriously)–as in when I don’t quite make it and then I’m merely rolling on my back trying to turn myself over.

The first day of work, I was pumped and ready to go. Then…I got there. Everyone was super concerned and everyone welcomed me back. The common reaction was ‘I can’t believe you’re back already’. My department is amazing and supportive. They are allowing me to come back on limited duty; which for a nurse, that’s huge! I have 5 lb pulling, pushing, lifting restrictions for 6 weeks. This didn’t seem to be my challenge to avoid. My challenge was the shear tiredness. I was exhausted! By about 10am, I hated my life. I was drained.

This continued the rest of the week. The exhaustion. Then let’s add to it. I can’t get comfortable at night. I’m a tummy sleeper and this surgery requires you to be a back sleeper. Plus, I have to elevate my arms and I can feel just the pressure of my body weight against my incision sites and it’s torture. Then came the night sweats. Freezing, shivering cold then to soak-the-bed sweating. I checked my temperature; no fever. I checked my incision sites; no signs of infection. So, I’ve attributed this to a stress response. Lisa put it very well: my body doesn’t know that I did this on purpose. My body is just in complete shock. I’m achy and uncomfortable at night. The lack of sleep has contributed to my long days.

Nevertheless, I made it through the work week. Although, they did low census me 2 of 3 of the days and I did not complain. I was thankful.

Then this weekend, my amazing girlfriend came over. I thought I’d be a total kill joy but it was surprisingly good. I had another restless night Friday but Saturday and today, we got out of the house. I got to walk around and get some sun. It was good and much needed. At this point in my weight loss journey, I’m pretty accustomed to physical activity. I try to walk about an hour a day for my activity and then do some other type of exercise on most days. But this week, I’ve done good to do my basic ADLs (activities of daily living).

As of right now, what is bothering me most is my arm pits. And not exactly my armpits as you can see in my pictures. The constant motion of the arms really irritates this region and it hurts. It is uncomfortable. Due to my bypass, I’m not able to take NSAIDS-so no IB profen for me. I’m off of my narcotics and surviving on tylenol. During the week, I maxed out my acetaminophen limits but this weekend, it has been better.

A friend from work asked me if it was worth it and if I regret it. I had to take pause. Don’t get me wrong, I’m am so very pleased with my surgery but, man, this is a struggle. My reply to her was ‘have you seen the size of my arms?!’ Jury is still out on how I feel about the extra incision (down my arm/ribs) which took the skin that hung over the back side of my bra. When I told her this, my friend said ‘pain is temporary’. This is so true. So I’ll reflect more on this after this pain/uncomfortableness/irritation passes.

I’m hopeful for this next week. I hope that the night sweats are over because they are awful. I hope to build up my strength as I’m feeling extremely weak all over.

Okay…now to the good stuff: the physical progress/pics. My incisions aren’t dirty. They still have surgical tape on them. Hoping to have that removed at this week’s post op appointment.

PostOp2wkVSPreOp
Side by side comparison: Pre-op Vs. 2 weeks Post Op

 

PostOp2weeks (4)
THIS! This incision is the booger! Right there, in the armpit region is the source of about 95% of my pain. When my arm is down, the incisions are not super noticeable. And the incisions on my breast are very thin and I’m hopeful that they will fade a good amount.
PostOp2wkVSPreop (3)
And this here, this here is why I did the surgery. These ‘bat wings’ are what bother me the most. And I’m so glad that they are gone!
PostOp2wkVSPreop (1)
Taking this picture was an accomplishment in itself. It’s like my arms weigh a ton!!!

PostOp2wkVSPreop (2)  PostOp2wkVSPreop (4)

Who’s That Girl In the Mirror? *Graphic Images*

Have you ever thought to yourself if I had this or if I accomplished this then I’d be happy? I mean…with whatever…be it weight, money, love. All my life I’ve imagined what my life would be like if I were thin. Surely it’d be better and it’d be different. So many times I’d look at myself in the mirror and say ‘man, if I could just lose {fill in the blank}, I’d be content’.

I’ve always been very unhappy with my boobs and my arms. So extremely self conscious. It impacted everything from what I wore to how I sat to how I had sex. I can remember very vividly when Paul had moved into my house and I was changing clothes and I turned away from him as I took off my bra. He kinda chuckled and said ‘why do you do that’? I instantly felt embarrassed. I told him that he wouldn’t understand and it turned into this huge conversation. In summary, I hated the way my boobs sagged and he loved me just the way I was. He told me so many times throughout our relationship how beautiful and sexy I was and how much he desired me. This is the first time I’ve really said this but I never really believed him.

It was and is so absolutely irrational. My body issues are deep seeded. It wasn’t until probably a year into our relationship that I actually took off my bra during sex. Because I hated how they looked. I hated the sounds that they made.

I’m a bundle of emotions today. I’ve said it a thousand times: grief is a bitch. She’s an evil bitch that I think waits until you’re least expecting it and the she pushes you down and laughs at you. At least that’s how I feel today; how I feel this week.

I can’t tell you how long I’ve imagined having my arms and boobs done. Probably the first time I ever really gave it thought was at 16! That’s a lot of years of fantasizing of what it’d be like to have slender arms and perky boobs. I’ve never had them. And I’ve always had a negative body image about it too. I’ve always thought about how amazing it’d be if they looked a certain way.

As I showered today, I could see myself in the mirror. My boobs are very perky; perfectly rounded. They look they way I’ve imagined they should all of my life. I squeezed the soapy rag against my outreached arms and watched as the suds streamed down my arm, down my body. I washed my stomach and the underneath of my breast. It was foreign to me that I did not have to lift my breast. I bent down to wash my feet and my breast did not hang or sway and neither did my arms. I got out of the shower and dried off. I tried to whip my towel around my back to catch it with my other arm like I always do but I wasn’t able to. My face felt warm and my head was pounding, my nose turned red and my eye began to water.

012616 (1)
Significant bruising to underside of right breast. Minimal pain now.
012616 (2)
I can almost extend my left arm completely now. I only have about half of this range of motion on my right arm. Both arms are tight. I continue to have to ice them.

I stood there and I looked at myself in the mirror. I looked at myself from head to toe. Not intending to critique myself in the least. Just kinda soaking it all in. And I began to cry. Who is this girl?

This face. It’s slender with a defined jaw line, no double chin. Topped with the darkest shade of brown hair, so short that it barely brushes my brow. And my boobs: my nipples are centered and in the correct anatomical position. My bellies are still there but as I put my hand on my hip, I can feel and I can see my bone. I take a deep breath in and I can see my chest rise, my stomach drawn in; I can see the outline of my rib cage. I turn to the side and I look at my arm. Slender. One smooth, semi-even line from my shoulder to wrist. I dry my back and I can see my shoulder blades. My lumbar spine is defined and there is no back roll or rather back ‘shelf’. I stand forward again. My thighs are still thick by not massive and when I look down, I can see my toes.

012616 (1)

I don’t recognize this girl. She’s everything I’ve bargained with myself to be. She’s everything I’ve been working to accomplish but I just don’t recognize her.

I finish drying and I have to put my compression vest on. And the tears come full force as I have my right arm in the sleeve and I can’t quite reach behind my back for the left sleeve. My arms are tight.

And I close my eyes and I see Paul.  We are standing in our home on 46th street. He’s holding my shrug as I put my arm in. And he tells me that it’s awfully warm outside and that this jacket isn’t really necessary. And I tell him ‘you know I hate my arms’. He kisses my shoulder and tells me he loves me just as I am.

I struggle but I get the vest on. And I snap it. And I look at myself tears streaming. He loved me just as I was but I didn’t. Now I look the way I want but I don’t recognize myself. And I have this rush…this panic…this feeling I felt for days, weeks, months on end following his death after all my friends and family had to leave my side to get back to their lives…I’m alone.

There’s some days when my house is so quiet and I walk through it and I have flash backs of a moment where he stood in that spot. And I think of the moment we stood there together. And now my memory is not of the girl that I see in the mirror now. And in some morbid way, it’s devastating.

**big sigh**

Being a widow is tough. Being a bariatric surgery patient who lost her husband on the same day is even more tough. In time wounds heal, but big wounds always leave a scar. I’m still healing. I still have days like today where it hurts like it is January 2015. On nights like right now, when my heart is literally aching and it seems that I’ve surely cried every tear a person could possibly produce, I try to tell myself to be thankful. I’m so thankful that I experienced Paul. I’m so thankful that I experienced a love that touched me to my core. I’m thankful that I survived. I’m thankful that I’ve pressed onward. I’m thankful that I’ve experienced new love. I’m thankful that I get to keep his memories with me. I’m thankful for this blog to share them with you.  And I know that sooner or later I’ll recognize the girl in the mirror and I’m gonna love her too.

Batwing-less {One Week Post Op} *Graphic Images*

ArmProgress (2)

I had my one week post op follow up with my surgeon today. I discussed with him all of my concerns which included that my right nipple is slightly to the right and the underside is slightly red. He assured me that it will take weeks to heal and for the swelling to decrease but when it does all that will subside. He is very happy with my progress. Next week I see him again and he will be removing my surgical tape.

Healing status: my left nipple does not have much feeling. My right does. They are starting to actually look like nipples instead of weird cones. I still have numbness on the underside of both breasts. And the places with feeling alternate itching and pain. How obnoxious. As for my arms, they are mostly numb around the incision site. The source of the height of pain is at the axillary. No surprise there. Every bend of the arm I feel it. Ugh.

ArmProgress (1)
Can you believe this is just 1 week apart? I know it’s hard for me to wrap my mind around!!! I am just ecstatic about the results. I feel like a different person. A batwing-less person :)

ArmProgress (1)

The best part was that he let me put on my compression vest/bra in place of my ace wrap and hospital bra. It was amazing! It feels soooo much better. The pressure is even. It’s difficult to explain but it’s amazing. But it’s also hot. It’s satin and it doesn’t breathe as well as I’d like it to be.

Overall, I feel great about my surgery. I feel fat. And don’t even one of you discount that feeling. I’m bloated. First off, I gained 14 lbs from surgery. Then I didn’t use my nurse knowledge and add docusate to my mountain of daily meds until day 6 when I felt my belly and was like ‘ooo that’s not squishy skin’. Ugh. I won’t regal you with all the lovely details. (Although, I, of course, can have casual poo talk like most woman casually talk about jewelry.) I’m fairly certain I scarred Lisa’s daughter when we went to the store and I loaded up the cart with my plan for success. Anyways, I ended my seven days of constipation.

I still feel extremely bloated. My abdomen/belly is round and it’s usually just lumpy (from excess skin). I rationally know that when I get back to my regular activity level and shed this water weight that all will be well again. But since I’m thoroughly aware of my alter-ego— ya know that psychopathic weight obsessive irrational eternal fat girl—I asked Lisa to hide my scale so that I don’t torture myself. This has been a great thing for me. I feel bloated/fat but at least I don’t have to obsess over the number.

Running around today totally wore me out and when I got home I pretty much passed out for 2 hours unintentionally. I’m thankful to have one more day. Back to work Wednesday.

Lastly, I just wanna say a quick thank you to all of you that read my thoughts on here and all the amazing support that I have received. It’s truly overwhelming and wonderful.

Hope your day was great. If it wasn’t, make tomorrow one. :)

Love in many forms…

I have written and erased what I want to say here like at least 5 times. What I’m feeling right now, I’m having a difficult time putting into words.

I am absolutely and utterly overwhelmed by this exquisite person that has come into my life. I’m sitting here having a full on cry session and anxiety attack over a spat with a family member. I feel so upset that it’s like my nerves are on fire. And for the first time since I lost Paul; since my the best friend of over 20 years turned her back to me and left—my first instinct wasn’t them to call. I called Lisa. And that means something to me.

Love. What a beautiful word. What a simple word. Just four simple letters that seem and for me are the center of my world. Have you ever tried to define love? Have you ever tried to describe it? I know I certainly have; each and every time I do, I fall short. There have never been the right combination of words that really gives justice to that feeling–that thought–that action–that everything.

And right now in my life with her I’m experiencing another level of it. This week I feel like we reached like a level up status. I didn’t have to tell her to do anything for me. Not anything. She just knew. I’m sure some of it has to do with her natural nurturing aptitude, but it’s more. For over a year, my world has been flipped and spun round and round. But I’ve had several moments with her where there’s just calm. I think about her helping me shower for the first time post op. She was calm and gentle; although, I know she was petrified. ‘I’m right here. It’s going to be ok’ were the words I heard as the room was spinning and I was having a full on panic attack.  She rubbed my head and took her time–and bit by bit, minute by minute she continued until all my dressings were off and I was able to shower and then look at my self in the mirror.

Over these days, she’s help lift me into bed. She’s brought me ice packs. She cooked, cleaned, kept me hydrated. She’s lit my candles because she knows they I love them. She’s kept my house in the order that I like. She has made me eat when I don’t want to. Slept on the couch, just to be close to me. Sat and talked to me. Sat in silence.

She’s eternally and nonobligatory supportive. She lifts me up. She tells me it’s ok to cry. She talks to me about Paul. We talk about our life together. She gives me a security that I never thought I’d have again. And security has always been my number one expression of love.  She makes me happy even when I’m sad. I’m just so very thankful for her. I’m so thankful for the lack of drama in our relationship. I’m thankful that it’s easy but not the easy that means boring. It’s always interesting.