The first surgery was
to remove my lap band. My surgeon also
cut away a ton of scar tissue that had grown up to my abdominal wall down the
entire length of my torso (this scar tissue was not a result of the lap band;
it was from having my gallbladder and appendix removed in 1987, which was an
open surgery) and implanted a vena cava filter, which prevents blood clots from
travelling to heart or lungs.
My surgeon could not
remove the port for the band because my liver is so large it’s in the way. Fatty
liver disease is a pretty common side effect of obesity. If you don’t have surgery, you probably wouldn’t
even know you have it. (I found out I had
fatty liver disease when I had my lap band put in.) My surgeon asked me to lose 30 pounds for the
second surgery so my liver shrinks a bit and isn’t quite so in his way.
I spent one night in
the hospital and was on a loathsome liquid diet for a week – 5 days before the
surgery, nothing the day of the surgery, and then 1 day after the surgery. Nothing but clear fluids, diet Jello and
popsicles, and an Atkins shake 3 times a day……I lost 15 pounds that week.
Two nights before
surgery, I needed to consume a bottle of Magnesium Citrate, which I assure you,
is as disgusting as it sounds. They try
to disguise the hell contained in that little bottle by putting cherry flavour
in it. Nice try. But that’s nothing compared to what happens
for the next 6 hours. I’ll spare you the
details. If you really want to know, you
can ask me.
After I left the
hospital, I resumed a normal diet. Now I
wait for my stomach to heal. In the meantime, I make sure I have followed all
the requirements I need for my next surgery and cross my fingers my insurance
company will pay for it. Get to work on
losing those 30 pounds and continue with my therapy and nutritional counseling.
Why am I doing all
this? It’s all preparation for my second
surgery later this year - gastric sleeve surgery, which is one type of
bariatric (weight loss) surgery wherein ¾ of the stomach is removed. I
will be left with a small banana-like “sleeve” for a stomach. This will
do a number of things: reduce my hunger level, reduce the amount of food
I’ll be able to eat at a time and change the hunger hormones in my
stomach…therefore I will lose weight. A lot of weight, FAST.
I know it probably
sounds scary and extreme. But for me, it’s not scary and certainly not
extreme….it’s necessary. My grandfather had this surgery in the 1960’s,
not for weight loss, but to remove ulcers. They didn’t call it “sleeve
surgery”, but it was effectively the same thing. Besides, there is nothing
scarier or more extreme to me than another decade being morbidly obese. I’m
done. I’ve spent my entire adult life so far fighting a losing battle. It’s time to bring out the big guns.
Although some
surgeons perform lap band to sleeve conversions in one procedure, my surgeon
(Dr. DiBenedetto from Rochester General Hospital), does not feel it is safe to
do both surgeries in one procedure. The stomach gets all torn up from
having the band removed and needs to heal for several months in order for the
stitches from the sleeve surgery to heal properly.
So, two
surgeries. Better to be safe than sorry.
At this point, you probably have some questions. I
have to admit, I feel a little overwhelmed by all the things I have to say
about obesity, weight loss surgery, the lap band, my history and all things
related to these things. It’s a complicated web. My self –assigned task
now is to untangle that web and bring some clarity to the chaos through words
on a page.
It’s been difficult for me to untangle that web over the
last month. I have been heartbroken and
distracted by my missing cat, Felix Rumpletumpskin.
This little tumbleweed of trouble bumbled into my life and
heart at about 4 weeks of age (almost 5 years ago) when he showed up in my
backyard and wouldn’t leave. (Although I
did only give him a day.) It was September, chilly and he was just so tiny and
charming. What else could I do? I brought him inside and after some introductions,
my other two cats, Whiskey and Sugar, passively followed the new kid around as
he explored each room. The water, kitten
food and litter box that had been set up just for him in his own room were
appreciated, but what really got his attention was the Sleepy Pod filled with
cat toys in my bedroom. I swear, when he
saw them, he dove in head first and proceeded to attack each and every toy with
bluster and pluck. Whiskey and Sugar sat
there like baffled parents at the edge of the Sleepy Pod watching intently as
Felix joyously kicked and threw toys up in the air and all over the floor. Later that night, the tiny ball of fur risked
the massive jump up to my bed and settled in on top of me as I lay on my
side. I couldn’t even feel his weight,
he was so small.
From that moment on, Felix ruled the house. He is the life blood of the household. I always tell him it was good thing he picked
me ‘cos no one else would put up with his antics: his refusal to be picked up without causing
bodily harm; his insistence on biting you hard if you dare touch him when he
didn’t want it first; his love of being “spanked”; the way he doesn’t just
sleep beside me…he has to force himself right into the back of my knees so his
body is actually pressing into me (he’s way too heavy to sleep on me anymore,
but he tries!), even on the hottest summer day; his high pitched “meow” when it’s
breakfast time; the way he positions himself on the TV stand right by the
treats as we get ready to walk out the door (after I moved to Rochester and he
realized the dogs always get a treat when we leave, he decided he would like
that too); the way he destroys anything green and leafy and the rough, carefree
way he bounds down the stairs 2 at a time.
 |
| Felix as a kitten attempting some sort of daredevil trick |
In our house, when you find yourself asking the question,
“What was that?” - 99% of the time, the answer is “Felix”.
For the last month we have not been asking that
question. It has been eerily quiet in
the house. The life blood is missing. And my energy, thoughts and time are not
occupied by my weight loss journey or preparing for surgery or even family,
friends or work. It’s all just
Felix. I have to get him back. This cannot be the end of my relationship
with this glorious character with the glossy black fur, turned up nose and
velvet ears. We search every social
media site’s “lost and found” listings. We
pursue leads, no matter how far-fetched.
We read websites about how to find lost cats. We put up posters in our neighbourhood and
search at 2am for him. We put cameras
throughout the house and outside to catch a glimpse of him. I toss and turn sleeplessly at night, worried
about where he is, if he’s safe, if there’s something else I can be doing to
find him.
So consumed have I been with my own grief that I have
made no effort to show concern for my neighbours. On one side, the elderly couple has clearly moved
out of their home of 40 years. People
come and go while piles of trash get piled at the curb every week. I have no idea where they went and I have not
inquired. On the other side, grandchildren
and sisters and friends have gathered for more than a week, the driveway
spilling over with cars. I recognize the
scene…someone has passed away. Last
night I mustered up the voice to say “goodnight” through the dining room window
as I closed it before bed. Only then I
did acknowledge to the relatives of my neighbours that I knew something was
wrong. Harold, our neighbour, passed
last week from ALS.
In my last post, I said I wanted to lock myself away from
the rest of the world while I handle my weight loss journey and now I find
myself saying the same thing about finding Felix. Don’t bother me – can’t you see I’m busy with
my grief and struggle? But life doesn’t work
like that, does it? Because, let’s face it – we’re all grieving and struggling all the
time. Bad things happen. That’s life.
Nothing stops even when I am grieving, even when I am struggling.
You might think the title of this post shows a
resignation to having lost Felix for good, but that’s not the case. I joined a new social network called “Next
Door” which is neighbourhood-centric.
You can connect with people who live close to you and post things such
as “Lost and Found”. Thanks to this
network, I have hope that Felix is still in our neighbourhood…there have been
several sightings close to our house that could be him.
 |
| Sugar, Felix and Whiskey enjoying Sunday morning sun |
I also now kind of think of the title as an homage to
Harold. Last night, his sister told me -
in response to my wishing we had known sooner so we could have done something –
that “they need me now” since they were leaving to go home (they live in another
state.). Suddenly I felt the warmth of
being given a second chance….of being entrusted with a responsibility and being
brought into an inner circle.
I can be there for Harold’s widow Pat. I can invite her for dinner and listen to her
stories and look at her pictures. I can
encourage her to adopt the cat she told me she wished she had when I moved in
and she saw my cats sitting in windows.
I can make the effort to know her and open myself to her so she knows me. I can do the same for all my friends and
family. I can do that for myself.
Goodbye Stranger, indeed.
These things are true about me:
· I am a terrible procrastinator
·
I am only really
productive when I have very little time and many things to do
·
I don’t believe that things are “meant to be”
· I absolutely love animals more than
people which is a difficult thing to say to people you love and difficult to
admit
· I have had 7 cats
and 6 dogs and I adore/d each and every one
· The cats: Pipin, Smokey, Smudge, Whiskey, Lucky, Sugar
and Felix
· The dogs: Prince, Angel (a Doberman), Tiny (a St.
Bernard), Catie, Lizzie and Ladybug
· I absolutely hate the word “fat”
unless it is being used by Nigella Lawson to describe juicy sausages, fluffy
yellow chicks or babies’ cheeks
· I’m pretty bossy normally. When stressed, even more so
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