Post Op Day 8: Is this some kind of joke?

Hi friends. I said my next post was going to be my bucket list of NSVs (Non-Scale Victories). But I lied. It'll be my next-next post because like a dumbass I waited until like 10:45 to start typing again and I don't have the mental fortitude to think through something like that. So you'll have to keep waiting. #sorrynotsorry

Today marks one week of life with only 20-25% of the stomach I was born with. Things are, well... things are doing pretty okay. As I mentioned before, the first few days were rough. Couldn't really get the pain under control reliably, it essentially hurt to move even half an inch in any direction.

Tuesday night I got the bright idea to go with Derek to pick Lucas up from school. I'm not allowed to drive until 2 weeks post-op (May 12), and I'm supposed to limit riding, but at that point, I hadn't left the house since the day of surgery and I was going bonkers. My pain was managed well enough with meds that I thought that I was up for this short trip being one of my "limited" rides.

Y'all.

I was NOT FUCKING CORRECT. I paid for that 15 minutes in the car for the rest of the damn night. I felt horrible because I told Lucas how much better I felt but then by the time we were home and he wanted Mommy time, I was at about an 8 out of 10 again and probably crabbier than I should've been. Sowwy pookie.

Earlier in the day, I realized that the time between my pain med doses had gotten considerably longer, which I think gave me a false sense of confidence. I had been reliably taking them once every 4 to 5 hours, and that day I had gone about seven hours with no real change in pain level. WOOHOO. Except not woohoo, because then I was like "PSH, I AM FINE!" and decided I wanted to sit in the front seat of my car like I'm some damn superhero and ended up taking them again at 7:00ish and midnight instead of swearing them off as I hoped to. Ugh. Fuck. I wouldn't say it was a setback exactly, because I was still better off than I was the days prior, but I was definitely mad at myself. I went to bed in pain again, had a hard time getting comfortable again, and expected another night of very little sleep. Again.

So imagine my surprise when I woke up the next morning in nearly the same position I had eventually landed in. Whaaaaaat!? I recall getting up at one point in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom. The drawback to drinking all of your meals for nearly 3 weeks -- I never used to be a middle-of-the-night peer. Pee-er. Peeer? A person who pees. There. Now, I'm lucky if it's only once! But after that, I apparently got back in bed, got comfortable (eventually), and fell asleep until my alarm went off. (I'm totally not bitter that I am off work for two weeks but still have alarms set on my phone every morning. Nope. Not bitter!)

Anyway. Wednesday morning. I wake up. I brace myself to essentially diagonally roll out of bed with as little pain as humanly possible. Deep breaths. Count to myself. 1... 2... 3... and plant my feet on the floor (okay, a step stool next to the floor because my bed is tall and my legs are short. Bite me.) and sit up. I... I didn't feel anything. It didn't hurt! Wow!

Okay, but I'm sure I'm about to feel it when I launch myself off the bed to go to the bathroom again! Nope. Nothing. Bending over to prepare to pee? Nuh-uh. Turning at the waist to retrieve toilet paper? Negative.

WHAT IN THE SAM HILL KIND OF SORCERY IS THIS?

Friends, let me tell you something. When I say I felt nothing, I mean nothing. Not like "oh yeah, there it is, but that doesn't hurt at all! Hooray!" No. I mean 0 out of 10, I do not feel a damn thing; it feels the same damn way it always does when I get out of bed and walk to the bathroom in the morning -- popping and cracking knees, but no searing/stabbing/pulling pain in my abdominal cavity. I was literally so confused by this that I pulled my shirt up to make sure the incisions were still there. I seriously considered for a moment that this entire surgery/recovery was a really vivid dream (some of my meds do weird shit -- it wouldn't be the first time) and thought maybe I made it up.

Nope, they're still there. All seven of them. The big one too. Still bruisey. Still weird. Still held together by string and people-glue. What in the actual fuck.

Maybe this doesn't seem like that big of a deal to most of you. When I told Derek his only reaction was "Yay! Honey that's great!" but I was so fucking perplexed that I only marginally took this as something to celebrate and instead it deteriorated into an investigation on dangerous reactions/responses to bariatric surgery that have a side effect of an absence of side effects. (My brain is not a safe space, guys. Seriously.) If it had been, like, a gradual decrease in pain, I would not be writing these words right now. Yay, pain's getting better day by day! No no. Day 6: False sense of recovery, significant pain increase. Day 7: Pain? Sure, I'd love a pain au chocolat but save it for the soft foods phase because I'm not allowed to chew yet. Otherwise, we got no pain here!

How does that even happen! I literally considered for a moment that it was like one of those things where terminally ill folks have some moments of feeling really well and functional right before they reach the end of their life. Not that I thought that I was near death or anything, but I was definitely considering that this was a calm before a storm.

However, I made it through the entirety of Day 7 with just one 8:00 am dose of pain meds and zero pain (save for itchy incisions). Woke up today, Day 8, again with no pain but a dose in the morning just to hedge my bets.

Now that evidence seems to suggest that I'm truly through the worst of this recovery thing, I'm allowing myself to enjoy the newfound freedom of movement around my house. Still kind of nervous about the stairs (because I'm a klutz who is nervous around the stairs when I'm not recovering from major surgery). I've accomplished a few things around the house today -- nothing major, but definitely more activity than in the past week. I'm more self-sufficient, which is cool.

I am trying not to get too cocky about this because I am definitely not at 100%, and learned quickly today that while the physical pain is essentially over, I've got a lot of ground to make up. I've been doing really well with keeping up with my protein and fluid intake, per doctor's orders, but in doing the math yesterday, I'm realizing that I am taking in a RIDICULOUSLY low number of calories. Like, 500 or fewer. Not for lack of trying -- but when your diet is only allowed to consist of clear, sugar-free liquids and protein drinks, it's harder than it sounds. I may not be a dietician, but I do know that being that low on calories, plus my body working as hard as it is to heal, plus not being able to physically move around for a while, is essentially the perfect recipe for exhaustion. So, I'm doing my best to get up and walk around as much as I can, but mostly I just want to lay down. And so, for now, while I can, I am laying down.

My understanding is that if all goes as planned, I will be allowed to advance my diet to pureed foods at my two-week follow-up appointment. The good news is that this appointment is on Monday, May 9, and my two-week mark is technically May 12. So I'm crossing my fingers that they're like, "You're doing great! Go eat some applesauce and blenderized meat!" and not "You're doing great! Wait until Thursday and then go eat some applesauce and blenderized meat!" Because this means that I will have almost five full days of being able to eat* actual food and rebuild my energy before I go back to work on Monday the 16th. Fingers crossed.

(*Note: eat as in consume; not eat as in chew. I have another two weeks before I get to do that. Sigh.)

So in true Sarah fashion, I have been preparing myself for this diet advancement by trying to pin down some meal ideas for things that I will not gag at the sight of. So far there are a lot of refried beans in my future because the thought of most things pureed does not leave me very keen on the idea of food.

On a side note, on the pureed diet, one of the ideas for foods to eat is level 1 and 2 baby foods. The thought of eating Lucas's food always squicked me out so I never tried any of it. I know a lot of y'all have babies -- are there any that you, as a grown-up human with complex tastebuds would willingly eat? Or, like, at least begrudgingly?

Anyhoo. So that's where I am right now. Aside from being really bored with liquids, and somehow simultaneously being too exhausted to function but too amped up and excited to sit still, I'm doing great.

OH, and I weighed myself today for the first *real* time since surgery, so it's time for an update:

HW: 346

SW (program): 308

SW (pre-op): 282.6

SW (day of): 272.3

CW: 270.0 (5/5/22)

Loss to date: 76 from highest; 38 from program start; 12.6 since pre-op diet.

Not too shabby, Hackley.

P.S.: I'm not taking any weights from surgery until at least my two-week follow-up seriously because I have absolutely no idea what my body is doing in there or what it thinks it should be purging or hoarding. And I feel that on a deep level. I never know what to purge or hoard either. Just ask my husband.

Stay tuned, my friends!