Well Monday 11/26 was the big day. I now have had drastic bariatric surgery, and I don't regret anything, so far.
Sunday was hard, I was all ready and willing and able to go except that the in-laws were not here, and not here, and not here. They were sucked into the morass that was the Dayton I-70 I-75 interchange.
This interchange has been under construction since I moved to Ohio, in 2000. Seven years later you still spend your time in one lane of traffic, jammed between semis and waiting. And waiting.....and keeping other people waiting. Like the 6 year old who runs to the window every 3.5 minutes "are they here yet? When are they going to get here?"
I spent the entire day all jumpy and ready to roll. But not until 3 hours after the in-laws showed up did we FINALLY get moving, in the dark, cold, rainy night.
Two and a half hours up to Bowling Green we went. My first moment of rage came when, on Highway 23 around Lewis Center, some idiot decides to come to a COMPLETLE stop in the right hand land, before taking a 90 degree turn into the right hand turn lane. Yes, Yes, I enjoy going from 60-to-zero in an instant, especially on a cold, darky rainy night. ARGH! Assholes!
But not to be outdone, I believe once we got onto Highway 15, some old fart pulled out onto the highway, which is permitted, but a scant 20 feet in front of me. So I slam on the brakes and the horn, skid a bit, as he crosses in front of me, in the right lane, then into the left lane, and then back in front of me into the right lane, top speed: 32 mph. What was my speed prior to this moment of slow speed psychosis? 75 mph.
I was so pissed, it was all I could do to stop the car, get my baseball bat, walk up to Speedy Gonzales and show him how we handle DITWADS in Columbus.....
But we got to Bowling Green, alive and in one piece. I had reserved us a room at the Days Inn, one of the very few choices I had in the Greater Bowling Green Metroplex.
I reserved a King, Non-Smoking Jacuzzi Suite.
We got a King, Smoking John Waters Special.
Threadbare carpeting that didn't quite meet up in all places. Extravagant Liberace type cut glass mirrors surrounded the Jacuzzi, with the grout job done by Romper Room.
The microwave had DIALS on it. We didn't open the fridge. The room heater had no temp control, only on, low fan, mediums fan, breath of Satan settings. But it was a Searsometer, so I'm sure that meant something good (in 1972). The bed was so springy it needed shock absorbers.
But the most was the bathroom. Screaming yellow tile, floor to ceiling. Lemon meringue Pie Yellow, Big Bird Yellow, more yellow than my grandmother's 1976 Mercury Cougar. YELLOW! Even with the lights out, the yellow glow from the bathroom kept me awake for hours.
Oh yeah, and the jacuzzi only worked for 5 minutes.
Long after Super G fell asleep, about 2 seconds after his head hit the pillow, I laid awake wondering if this was a harbinger of the day to come.
The next morning we were both up bright and early, because I forgot the ride to the hospital was 5 minutes, not 45.
Checked in, had some bloodwork done, went upstairs. They made me put on these leggings made out of sheets, the only way I can describe it. And the requisite 3 pokes before finally getting an IV.
I woke up in the OR with the breathing tube still inserted, yeah that was a whole lot of no fun. I was loaded up with fentanyl and dilaudid, and eventually spirited off to my room. A nurse later told me that all Dr. Lane's patients get private rooms unless the hospital was completely crowded. So I had the room all to myself.
I was visited by two patients of Dr. Lane's who will be having surgery in December. Never met them in person, but why not meet someone for the first time when you're 8 hours post op? It was a great thrill ride........
Until the vomiting started. I had been given zofran, but for some reason, that doesn't do jack for me. I asked the nurse if I could have phenergan, she said that I could not because it was a dangerous drug and caused one of her patients a Deep Vein Thrombosis recently. I vomited all night long.
At shift change I talked to the new nurse about it. Turns out night nurse never called the Doctor, and the patient she was referring to got a DVT because she pushed phenergan through a bad IV. A short time later, I got my phenergan, which in actuality is a harsh drug, I slept for the rest of the day, but didn't vomit again.
I survived the upper GI and went home on Wednesday night, with a drain tube.
My drain stopped draining on Thursday.
I called on Friday and was told that was normal AND THEY WOULD PULL IT WHEN I WENT FOR MY FOLLOW UP APPOINTMENT ON DECEMBER 6TH.
Why would I drag around a tube hanging out of my body that is no longer functioning for an entire week?
I went upstairs, snipped out the suture and pulled out the drain myself. I don't see what the big deal is but apparently, people don't normally do this type of thing. I figure you, you pull out boogers, tampons, babies, why not a drain tube?
Still haven't figured out what I'm going to say to the Dr next week when I come in without my little friend.
I have good days and bad days, yesterday I was really hungry, but today I had some Campbells Select Creamy Tomato Parmesean soup, and it was heavy enough to make me feel full for the first time. I'm not supposed to start full liquids until Monday, but I'm not very compliant about some things, see the drain tube above.
So other than antsy to drop pounds (I gained nearly 10 with the IV fluids in the hospital) I feel normal.
and so I must start working for the day.