Tag Archives: Weight-Loss Surgery

An Attitude Adjustment

I had a major adjustment in my attitude yesterday, which needed to happen. Surgical recovery has been rough to say the least. I’ve struggled more than I imagined I would, but I finally feel like I’m on the mend.

Yesterday I woke up and felt a level of pain that I haven’t experienced since early Summer. My skin irritation (cellulitis) was back in full force, and I was immediately reminded “why I did this to myself.”

I struggled for a few days with regret, knowing it was temporary, but allowing it to anger me none the less. When I felt the pain associated with my skin, which is a direct result of obesity, I was filled with hope. Yes, I did this to myself, and now I’m doing something about it.

Sleeping last night was a major struggle, but I was bothered by my skin more than anything pertaining to surgery. My boyfriend has a Tempurpedic mattress, and he thinks I need one too. I’m not sure what to think about that yet because there are so many choices now. It’s overwhelming.

Today I saw my primary doctor, and I’ve lost over 10% of my body weight since I last saw her. She took me off of my blood pressure medicine, which is great. I started taking it in July, and I’m glad it’s over.

I couldn’t do this with Mom, Michael and Jesus. I already knew that Mom would move the earth to make me feel better, and I couldn’t be more thankful for her. And Michael has been more patient, strong and loving than I ever imagined a man could be. This is the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but I’m beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel. I even spent some time at the park today, and I’m finally feeling well enough for friends to visit.

I almost feel human again, and I’m hoping my tolerance for protein shakes, water and vitamins will help increase my energy levels. Overall, I’m improving, and I seriously hope that I can say that I feel great again soon.

 

 

 

 

Less Than Two Weeks After Weight-Loss Surgery

It’s been almost two weeks since I had surgery. I wish I could say that I feel better, but I don’t. I actually feel pretty terrible. I’ve made some great strides in terms of healing. I don’t feel pain or bloating anymore, which is awesome. I’ve dropped about 40 pounds, which is also awesome. I’m just miserable too.

Saturday I spent the day in the emergency room because I was dehydrated. My dear friend, Brandon, came down from New York to visit me. He brought me tea from Starbucks (and gift cards to use when I can tolerate it better later.) He spent time inside with me, but on Saturday we ventured out for a walk.

brandon-and-kenlieMy energy level is at zero. I’m not in much pain at all, but I’m exhausted. Just taking the elevator and walking the length of the lobby to him made me tired and shaky. He knew we’d go slow, and we did. After stopping several times on one block (the length of my building) I told him I could go another block. I was wrong. 

We stopped so I could lean against a wall, and he snapped a selfie of us. He immediately noticed that I was leaning into him, cold and sweaty and started walking back toward my building.

When we accessed the back entrance I immediately sat down. I felt dizzy and sweaty even though I also felt cold. I think I passed out because the next thing I remember was Brandon saying, “Kenlie, wake up. Look at me. Focus on your breathing. Keep your eyes open.” It felt like this phase lasted for an eternity, but they said it was about 20 minutes.

At that point Brandon called Michael, who was upstairs doing my laundry, and he came down. They quickly made the decision to call an ambulance, and Michael went into first-responder mode. (He’s an Eagle Scout, and he used to work as a first-responder, which I was thankful for yesterday.) Bran continued to get me to look at him, and all I can remember is looking at his chin and trying desperately to open my eyes.

The ambulance arrived in less than two minutes – one of the perks of living in the center of downtown, and it only took about two more minutes to reach the hospital once they hooked me up to fluids and checked my vitals.

I spent the next several hours at the emergency room, where I was greeted by a friendly anddehydrated empathetic doctor. When I told him what was happening he said he’d be miserable and much crankier than I  if he had only had 60 calories so far too.

They ran several tests and gave me two liters of fluid. The second bag even had a few added calories, and I was relieved that I’d be hydrated again soon. (Seriously, can’t I just lie around with an IV for the next few weeks?)

After several hours they released me and told me to see my primary at some point early in the week.

I know I’ve said it already, but this is the hardest thing I’ve ever done…ever. I’m exhausted all the time, but I’m finally able to sleep in bed. I couldn’t do that a week ago. I haven’t eaten anything since September 15th, which was almost a month ago. I don’t know anyone who had to do liquids that long prior to surgery, and I’m still a few weeks away from eating semi-solid foods like eggs and mozzarella sticks. (That’s a day I’m looking forward to.)

In a few days I can start consuming pre-made protein shakes, which should help because the powder one I usually love is currently the most appalling and disgusting thing on the planet. I seriously have more disdain for the protein shakes than I do for the current presidential candidates!

I can also start “eating” Greek yogurt in a few days, and I hope my body can tolerate it because I’d like to take advantage of the fact that we finally have a Trader Joe’s in town.

My mom has been my champion, and my boyfriend has been amazing too. Their love for me is so evident, and I’m thankful (even though I’m also cranky.) Dad is coming down to visit later this month, and I hope and pray that I’m doing better by then.

Right now I’m struggling. I can’t believe I did this to myself. I knew it would be hard, but I didn’t know it would be this hard. If I had known I wouldn’t have done it. I’m not kidding.

People who have experienced this surgery say that I’ll look back at some point and think it was worth it. I hope that’s true. I’m pretty sure I know it’s true, but it doesn’t feel that way right now.

I live my life by choosing to look at the positive, but right now it’s hard to see. I hope I see the bright side soon because I can’t be bothered being sad for long.

Better Than Yesterday

My attitude changed dramatically after yesterday’s blog post. People started praying for me, and Michael and I prayed together too. It was so cool to realize that while I was intentionally worshiping God I felt no pain at all.

I was a little sore throughout the second part of the day yesterday, but I went to bed last night in very little pain and woke up the same way. I also accomplished a major post-surgical goal (insert poop emoji,) which felt great.

I’m still tired after basic things like showering. It’ been a week since I’ve cared about my hair and makeup, and I still don’t care right now. All I’m doing these days is drinking liquids and walking. I have also spent more time outside in the last few days because the weather has been perfect (at least as perfect as it gets around here.)

Life is so quiet right now, and I’m more disconnected from the internet than I can remember. I’m thankful that I have this break and even more thankful that I have some fun things to look forward to later this week.

My favorite guy from New York will be here this weekend, and it has been way too long since I last saw him. Michael and I also plan to spend some time with friends from our church in a comfortable environment that won’t be difficult for me.

I’m also down 30 pounds since the liquids phase began almost 3 weeks ago, which is a small reminder that the foggy pain I felt most of the week is worth it.

 

 

Five Days Post Op

I’ve officially reached the “why in the hell would I do this to myself?” phase, and I’m not happy about it. I’m healing and dropping a little weight, but I’m exhausted from showering, walking and trying to drink 48 ounces of liquids each day.

Yesterday I was struggling with cabin fever, so my boyfriend and Mom took me on a little trip to a place I’m always comfortable. I slept much better than I have since surgery, and I know I’m healing. I know I have to be patient…blah, blah, blah…I’m just ready to see some progress. I’m ready to confidently move around without fear of the gripping pain that comes with moving too quickly. I’m ready to curl up in my own bed, which just isn’t possible yet.

Right now it takes me almost 5 minutes to drink an ounce of anything. I knew it would be like this, but it’s still hard to wrap my head around it. It’s even hard to hold my iPad up long enough to read books, answer messages on social media and such.

I know I shouldn’t complain about this awesome opportunity that I had to regain control of my body while losing weight, but today I’m frustrated. Today I need to be reminded that I made a carefully thought out choice and that everyone I know who has been through it says it was the best choice they’ve ever made.

I definitely don’t feel like that now, but I know feelings lie. I know this was a good decision, but right now it’s hard. I guess that’s just part of my process, but what I should do is remind myself that God is faithful and cut myself some slack since it’s been less than a week.

My goal for today is to read, walk, sip and spend time with people I love, and hopefully, I’ll improve a bit more tomorrow.

Healing After Weight-Loss Surgery

Whoever says that weight-loss surgery is the easy way out has never had to heal after weight-loss surgery.

I used to think I’d feel like a failure if I did this, but in reality I’m proud of myself for keeping a positive attitude during surgery and recovery. This stuff is hard, but I’m looking forward to seeing the results of my efforts.

I’ve been surprised by the outpouring of prayers and encouragement I’ve received from people online and in my everyday life. I know I’ve already said it, but no one could ever ask for a better support group than what I have.

Mom is still here, and I’m thankful because I need her. She’s great at encouraging me to walk, rest and sip. I don’t know how I’d get through this without her. She has been so patient and helpful, and she’ll be that way as long as she needs to be.

Michael has been great too. He makes sure that Mom and I have everything we need and reminds me that the more I move around the quicker I’ll heal. (I don’t particularly like that part, but I know he’s right.) It’s such a weird feeling to sit right next to the guy I’m in love with without wanting to curl up next to him. There’s just too much discomfort for that right now.

Unfortunately, that also means that I’m skipping church tomorrow. My church community is filled with awesome people, and on an average Sunday I get loads of hugs from kids and adults. I can’t handle that yet, and if someone tried to hug me right now I’d probably cry. I know that sounds dramatic, but it’s true.

I slept better last night than I did my first night home, but it was still rough. I woke up around 4 am, then I went back to sleep and awakened for the day at 8:20 am.

As I write this I’m sitting in my bed, hoping that I’ll be comfortable enough to take a nap in a few minutes.

I wish I could say that I feel awesome, but I’m not quite there yet. Right now my pain level is at 5 or 6, but I’m looking forward to improving each day.

Until then…

Heading Into Surgery

I’m going in for surgery this morning, and the procedure should last about an hour. It still doesn’t feel real, but it’ll be over in a few hours.

If all goes well, as I assume it will, I should be home tomorrow or the next day. (I’m hoping for tomorrow,) and I’ll begin the recovery process at home. Based on what I’ve learned from the doctors and people I know personally the recovery isn’t too bad. Most people I know didn’t even take pain pills, which is awesome. (Don’t worry, I’ll take them if I need them, but I’m hopeful that it won’t be too terrible.)

Right now I feel as though I can do anything. I’m down 20 pounds, and successfully completing two weeks of only liquids prior to surgery makes me feel like a rock star. I’m ready, and I know that God is going to carry me through this part too. It’s almost time.

Let’s do this…

I Don’t Want Everything To Change

I’ve been extremely open about the fact that I’m having weight-loss surgery this week, and the majority of people have been encouraging.

I keep hearing that my entire life is about to change, and people say that with such hope. That statement, which always comes from well-meaning people, is so discouraging to me.

I don’t want my entire life to change. I want to get my weight and habits under control, but I’m already genuinely happy with my life. I’ve had to work through a lot of things to get to this point, and I just want everyday things to be easier.

My relationships with God and among friends and family are stronger than ever, and I have the love of a man who has walked in my shoes. He’s the one I’ve been waiting for, and I honestly feel like I couldn’t ask for more.

I have a job that allows me to share joy with people everyday. I get to offer hope to people when they need it, and they encourage me as much as I encourage them.

Mom’s health has improved significantly since she had strokes in April, and Dad seems pretty healthy too.

My home is cozy and comfortable, my church family is awesome, and all of these things make this season of life a beautiful one.

I feel more loved, fulfilled and valued than ever could have imagined, and I don’t want any of this to change. I just want my body to shrink. I want to move more easily throughout the airport as I fly to Colorado with Mom and Michael at Christmas, and I want to enjoy certain activities that are currently prohibited due to my size.

I believe that change is a good thing. I never want to stop evolving, so when I hear someone tell me that it’s all about to change I try to remember how much has changed already. So many things had to fall into place before major surgery/weight-loss became an option.

Good grief! I’m tired of focusing on the topics surrounding my body, and I’ve taken time to serve in areas that allow me to focus on other things. I just can’t escape these thoughts right now. I’m so excited, nervous, happy, anxious, ready, curious, etc.

I’m just ready.

 

 

 

Less Than One Week

I felt much better today than I did last night, and I’m thankful for that. I’m still hungry, and I spent a big part of the day dreaming about the ounce or two of chicken that I’ll be able to eat about 7 weeks from now. Instead of chicken I forced myself to drink protein and water. I’m more tired than usual too, but I’m down over 14 pounds from last week. That’s encouraging.

It’s hard to think about anything else at this point, and I suppose that’s okay. I’m tired of talking and thinking about it, but it’s one of themes important things I’ve ever done. My surgery is less than one week away, and I’m just ready to get through it. I’m not looking forward to being in the hospital, but I am looking forward to returning home to start the healing process.

sakroots

In an attempt to take my mind off of my hunger I spent some time looking for black boots online, but I didn’t find any that I wanted. I’ll just need to look for them locally because it’s too hard to know what will fit well.

I did find a pair of rain boots, and they’ve been on my wish list for quite a while. I ordered them because I already know the size and fit, and I’m looking forward to a rainy day in October when I can wear them.

While online shopping I paused to watch the series premier of Designated Survivor. I had high hopes for it because I adore Kiefer Sutherland, and it didn’t disappoint. The first episode was great, so now I have two fall TV favorites.

I’m worn out, but I’m okay.I’m resting well at night, but it doesn’t take much to wear me out. I ordered the vitamins that I’ll need, so I’m looking forward to having more energy soon. Until then I’ll just continue to take it day by day and look forward to next week, when what seems to be the hardest part, will be over. I hope I’m right about that.

 

 

It’s Hard To Imagine Not Being Obese

I’ve spent so much time thinking about what it will be like to live in a smaller, healthier body, but I can’t really imagine it. I’ve been obese my entire adult life, which leads me to wonder what my face looks like under my excess weight.

Right now I wear a size 7 ring (closer to 6.75,) but I’m guessing that will change. I’m also pretty sure that I’ll lose at least one shoe size, more realistically two sizes. My clothing size will obviously change as well, which is expected. There’s just so much more than that to consider.

I remember what it was like to weigh 284 pounds, and I felt tiny. (Yes, I know that’s still totally obese, but I don’t remember what it was like to be smaller than that.) I felt so light on my feet, yet I cannot imagine what it will be like to be 100 pounds smaller than that.

I never liked to think about the big picture when it came to the numbers because that always used to discourage me. Now I’m just intrigued.

I’m curious to know what it will be like to shop somewhere other than Lane Bryant. (I’m glad they exist for people my size, but it’s going to be fun to have more options.) I also want to know what it feels like to cross my legs or buckle my seatbelt on an airplane.

I want to experience the feelings of relief that will inevitably replace the feelings of anxiety as I request a table at a restaurant, and I want to know what it feels like to have enough room to sit comfortably in a booth.

I want to know what it feels like to run, to wear a pair of high heels and to feel my boyfriend’s arms wrapped around me even more than they already are while his chin sits on my head.

I want to know what it’s like to buy a one piece swim suit, which is something I can’t do now because of all of the excess weight in my abdomen. I also want to know what it feels like to wear a shirt with my favorite sports team’s logo or to order a jacket with my work logo on it.

I want to know what it’s like to sit down in a movie theater without having to raise the arm rest, and I want to know what it’s like to sit outside to drink coffee without having to question what the chairs are made of.

I want to wear jeans.

I have so many questions that only time can answer, so I’m going to muster up as much patience as I can while I strive to have them all answered.

This is my new reality, and I can’t wait to discover what’s ahead.

 

“I Don’t Want Your Pity; I Want Pizza.”

I was at a party tonight, and I’m happy to say that I lived through the torture. Unfortunately, food has dictated my life for longer than I’d like to admit, and right now I’m making some strides to change that. For me, that means that I’m going to let it (err, the lack of it) dictate what I do for a little longer. I doubt I’ll be going to any more pizza parties for the next couple of months.

At the party someone needed me to know that she didn’t feel sorry for me. Luckily for her I didn’t want her pity, I wanted pizza. I didn’t eat it, but it was tough to sit and watch everyone else do it. I left before the cake tonight because it was just too much to take. (Please excuse me while I adjust to this big life change. I might need a few days.)

Overall I’ve done well on my liver-shrinking, liquid-only diet so far. I have a long road ahead of me, but I’m glad I’m finally doing it. I’ve made it through a couple of days, and it’s an empowering feeling. I’m still hungry, but I’m gaining confidence in myself (and losing weight.) I’ve also dropped 6 pounds. I’m looking forward to seeing a lower number next week and the week after, etc.

I do love sugar-free popsicles right now, which I didn’t expect. (Everyone else seemed to know though.) I’ve also tried some variations in my protein shakes, as well as mixes that I can pour into a bottle of water. I don’t plan to drink these long-term, but if they help me get through this phase I’ll do it.

It’s been a long and productive day, and I’m tired. I felt a little sleepier than normal today, but the only difficulty I’ve faced is moments of legitimate hunger and breaking up with foods I love that don’t love me back.

I can do that.

I am doing this.