I Have A Drinking Problem

Do you know the feeling of trying to keep everything together when really underneath it is all falling apart at the seams?

After my last scope, I vigorously tried to appear fine.  When asked how I was feeling, I found myself using words such as "great", "grand", "fabulous", and even "never been better" - ok so I just inwardly shuddered as I typed that one.

Truth is I was anything but.  Again, bites of food became minefields (not to be gross here, but lets just say I must have been a seagull in a former life based on the amount of regurgitation I had). Then even sips of water became excruciating.  Eventually I couldn't keep my saliva down.

So, I am writing this not even 24 hours after being discharged again from the hospital.  I had been in since the 13th.  This time 'round, the hospitalization was scarier for me than the 2 previous ones.  I had no clue I was heading to hospital.  That day I had gone to work as usual and went to my family Dr. on my lunch break just try to change the meds that the hospital gave me the week before as they were making me tired.  She asked me how I was feeling, and I mustered a simple "ok".  Somehow she saw that I had uttered a great mistruth.  I was feeling exhausted, empty, drained. She looked at me and told me to go home, predicting I was heading to emerg within 24 hours. She said I was dehydrated and that I needed to stop pretending I was fine. I asked her if I could go back and finish the rest of my shift to which she said "go home".  Home I went, feeling pretty low.

I called my bariatric team once home.  The team consists of a Nurse Practitioner, a Dietitian, and my Bariatric surgeon (who is on sabbatical til October).  After a quick chat with me honestly answering questions about how many cals I was getting in a day (struggling to hit 500), how much fluid I was getting in a day (struggling to hit a litre), how I was feeling (like I had been hit by a train), activity level (I had not even been on my glorious new bike for weeks for fear of blacking out) - I was told to report to Emerg STAT.

I was admitted under a general surgeon who didn't quite know what to do with me.  I had the requisite swallow test (which was my third one since surgery, and I would prefer not to have to have another one e-v-e-r!). It showed that everything from my esophagus through my sleeve is narrow; but then again I have a sheepish sleeve anyhow. It also showed pretty significant reflux - in fact, the nice Dr. who performed the test advised me with great concern to make sure NEVER EVER to eat or drink while lying on my right side. Um, ok. Even better diagnosis: I have no cats wandering about my sleeve (cat scan was clear).

Once again my family and I did the dance.  The one where we are glad I'm admitted and getting checked out, but also equally scared that I'd be sent home without answers.

Well, I've been admitted and checked out.  The reflux is a problem.  I have an appointment next week with another bariatric surgeon to discuss this, and the Nurse Practitioner told me to prepare myself for a discussion about a revision to a RNY (which they don't do here unless the sleeve is not working, and excessive reflux 8 months out gets me a ticket to that horror show). Thankfully there is nothing more sinister lurking - my sleeve is working, although everything is narrow.  The Nurse Practitioner and Dietitian also suspect that the underlying food allergy theory may be wreaking havok.

So... this morning I'm headed off in search of alternative help.  They recommended a local Dr. who is a naturopath, immunologist, and allergist.  She's fitting me in.  From what I've read she uses everything and anything between spoons, animal horns, and cups.  At this point I would do naked hot yoga on rocks and eat upside down if I could.

I'm back to a clear fluid diet meaning I have pretty much 0 energy. I'm also returning to my family Dr. this afternoon to discuss such fun things as when I can go back to work (next week please?!? I love my job!), and can I take the little vacation that Hubby and I have in 2 weeks to celebrate our anniversary (yes please I'll be a good girlie!).
Fingers crossed on both fronts, but we'll see.

Anyhow, there it is.  Goes to show that you can't base your success on the numbers.  Even with my successful weight loss and the drastic change in my body's measurements, I am incredibly unhealthy right now.

Fingers crossed for some answers at both appointments. 

I will keep you posted (unless I can't type because I'm sitting krishna-style on hot rocks and holding buffalo horns full of sacred herbs in my hands)...

Oh yeah - and as for the title of the post, a few nights ago I asked my league of visitors (some bariatric pals and a few coworkers) what I should say when people ask what is wrong this time.  Given that I'm now on clear fluids and desperately sipping the day away trying to get those blessed 2 litres in, it came to me: I have a drinking problem.

XO from a drained HP

Status Quo

(sheepishly looks around and steps forward to the mic... "Hi, my name is Hotty, and I've been absent for WAYYYY too long"....)

First and foremost, I most sincerely apologize for my absence.  Please someone get in touch with the milk carton people and get my picture taken off!!!

Where have I been? Well, a lot of places.  Most of them good but some not so much.Was recently re-admitted and scoped yet again.  Seems my stricture (formerly known as Mr. Hiatal Hernia but who was not a hiatal hernia at all) decided that he missed me so much that he would come back.  Note to Mr. Stricture: next time, send an effin' postcard!! :{

This business of weight loss is a funny one.  Most if not all of us become somewhat (or totally) obsessed by the scales, and rely on the numbers to gauge our success or failure.

Um, I just wanna throw this out there: as long as you are doing something, anything about your health, then "failure" is not really in the picture, is it? 

How ironic it is that some of us go through gargantuan struggles to lose weight, only to succumb to the inner-voice that tells us that we aren't good enough, aren't thin enough, aren't working enough, aren't losing enough.  Personally I've had enough of enough - it is really for the birds.

I am evolving. I can feel it with every breath and bat of my eyelashes.  Every time I pass a mirror I can see it.  But I can also see it when I close my eyes.  My physical appearance is changing drastically, as is my inner self.  Most of it, thankfully, is for the good.

I will say this.  My ability to put this journey into words was hindered for the longest while.  I dived (dove?) head-first into a deep dark pool of discovery and questions about moi (more like I was thrown in to the churning black abyss of a completely unknown territory).  Realising that I didn't really know myself, I felt it wise to not write about me.  But now, I'm getting to know me, and just like riding a bicycle - I've decided to put fingers to keyboard to start expressing myself again.

(Incidentally, speaking of bicycle, I have been riding a bicycle... and I freaking love it.  Those olympian cyclists need not worry - I will not be smashing any records other than my own.  But I'm having a ball "pedalling my ass" all over town, which I think I might actually have printed on a shirt one of these days...)

What does my journey look like right now?  Well, the good and the bad.  Numbers wise, I'm a success.  145 pounds down in 8 months.  93 inches have left this bodacious bod.  However, nutritionally I'm a disaster.  I have been unable to tolerate protein powder, milk, eggs, etc etc etc for months.  Initial allergy testing showed that I triggered allergic reactions to all 48 food serums.  I achieved a minute of glory at the clinic as this is not a usual reaction.  Subsequent testing the next day had the same result.  Am I allergic to ALL food?  (Horror of horrors! The travesty!  The injustice!)  Not freaking likely I hope.  I've been given a list of 7 major baddies to remain away from, and 21 related foods to avoid if humanly possible.  Initially this was a shock.  Now it's just what it is.  I will be seeing a specialist hopefully some time in the coming millennium to verify exactly what I am allergic to. Moving on...

Bigger picture - I'm struggling.  Despite the success on the scales, Hubby and I are in a vicious battle against time in terms of Operation Stork.  My surgeon initially thought that one year after surgery (which will be this coming December) we could be given the green light to start the baby making trials *as long as I am nutritionally stable*.

Well folks, nutritionally I am a disaster.  A veritable mess.  We were given the sad tidings at my 6 month check up in June with the bariatric team that December is going to be a no-go for sure.  I understand the whole bun-in-the-oven concept, and how the oven needs to be healthy... but this oven is turning 41 in February and the clock is ticking.  It seems that no matter what I do or what deities I worship, there is no way that I have any control over this mess.  And of course I'm someone who likes to imagine that most things are within my control...  I am boggled by the irony that I'm finally in the weight range (30 lbs less actually) of what the fertility Doc needed in order to get help... but I am nutritionally farther away than ever of being medically encouraged (or assisted) to procreate. 

Every day, every single day - every bite and every sip is a struggle.  Still.  I'm back on the same "chemo" meds that they give to counteract nausea to chemo patients.  They knock me on my ass every 6 hours.  This is just to be able to keep food down.  And the reflux is constant, and is only tempered by another medication which just got doubled. Ugh.

However... with all of that being said... I signed up for weight loss surgery knowing the possibilities and hoping for weight loss.  Well, it appears that I indeed got what I wanted.  The weight loss is staggering.  I'm a little worried that it won't stop.  As much as I'd like to look like a stunning goddess, I'm a little worried that I'm going to look stupendously gaunt.  My collar bones are protruding already.  Hubby and I joke that if it takes sucking back chocolate, I will not get to that point of sickly thin... but honestly I wonder (and yes, worry sometimes).

So... that is it.  Actually one more thing.  I am a food addict.  And I didn't know it until recently.  I'm the worst kind - I was so far gone that I actually used to say that I wasn't an addict, that I just liked food.  Well, that was bs.  Now that I have to negotiate each bite like a minefield, I can tell you with 100% clarity that I have been addicted to food for most of (if not all of) my life.

Phew.  Oh yeah - for those of you from my old WW days, just so ya know, I have tried to post an update there too.  While I can look at my profile and change my status, the site absolutely will not allow me to post on my blog.  Not sure why - each time it appears to be a technical difficulty.

Stay safe out there kids - and if you're using numbers to validate your success, please stop.  The bigger picture is your overall health.  I'd take at least half of those pounds back in a heartbeat if I could be nutritionally stable...

XO from HP