16 Days to Wait...

I can't honestly say that I remember much about the 16 days between my Daddy's death and the day of my surgery. In fact, I remember shockingly few details. Maybe I was in shock... I don't know. I spent the night at my sister's house the night daddy died and made the 17 hour drive back home the following day. I remember the drive to Florida really vividly... I was steeling myself because I knew what was happening. I did a lot of self- talk on the way out there trying to make peace with a lot of things in my life. I had to forgive myself for the things I couldn't change. For all the missed opportunities to show my daddy I loved him. For all the time I didn't spend with him. For all the phone calls that I missed. Those were all big demons for me to wrestle with. The guilt alone was almost more than I could bear. I did a lot of praying too. Asking for peace about the situation, peace for my daddy, and as much peace as possible for my sisters. I worried for them most. I knew I could handle losing daddy. I worried about my pregnant sister, Alyssa and her unborn son. I worried about my sister, Courtney, because she was also handling her daughter being very very ill at the same time Daddy was ill. I worried about my sister, Renee, because I had never seen her in a stressful situations of this magnitude. I worried for everyone else but myself because I knew I had control of myself and I know how I am under stress.

The ride home was much different though. I remember driving away from Jacksonville and thinking about that large part of my history... half of me... would never speak again. I remember crossing every city and thinking about how I would never pass this way under the same circumstances again. I was running on 5 hour energy drinks, Java Monster and very little sleep. My body was in overload. I'd never had a panic attack before and I had my first one in Beaumont at 1 a.m. on the 22nd. I was scared and jittery and exhausted. As soon as I had it, I knew what it was but I had to get home. I wanted to be nowhere else but home. Then, I had my second one at 5:30 a.m. in Huntsville. I slept a little in the backseat of my car because if I didn't, I was going to crash my car. Lord knows I didn't want to do that.

I had a stress test on the 24th and that sucked (I can't lie about that... if you're going to have gastric bypass, the stress test is going to suck something fierce)! It HURT. The lady had me lay on my left side and was digging the ultrasound wand into my chest... I was so sore! THEN, she put me on a treadmill, attached to all sorts of wires and monitors and I had to get my heart rate up to a certain level... it felt like FOR-E-VER to get it there because in a brilliant move, I took my blood pressure medication that morning and it keeps your heart rate from elevating. Yeah... that was a very long 8 minutes on a treadmill going 4.0 mph on an incline to get my heart rate up. And THEN she stuck that damn wand back in my chest to get ultrasound pics of my heart. After the torture of the ultrasound wand, I found out I had an enlarged heart because I wasn't controlling my high blood pressure. I had no idea. That wasn't the first time I realized how life-threatening obesity and obesity related illness is, but it sure made me think.

Of all the appointments I had to go through in the 6 months leading up to surgery, this one with the cardiologist was by far the worst. It wasn't fun at all. I would even say the psychiatrist visit, the scope to look at my esophagus, the sleep studies, and every office visit would be considered fun compared to that ultrasound! But, I wouldn't change the decision I made to have this surgery. I kept telling myself that while I was suffering on the treadmill that afternoon- "do whatever it takes. It's only temporary. Don't give up." And I wasn't going to.
After that day, I don't remember much. I spent a lot of time sleeping. And on a liquid diet. I think that might have been the hardest part of my pre-surgery. I was CRANKY for the first few days because I was hungry! It didn't matter how much crappy soup I drank (and by the end of the week, all soup was crappy!) it couldn't fill me up. It was just like drinking water... it satiated me for a while but I was soon hungry again. I ate a boat load of soup that week. The purpose of the liquid diet is to let your liver rest, detox and shrink back down after getting rid of all the toxins. Towards the end of the week, it wasn't so bad. I didn't feel the desire to eat everything in sight. I didn't think about eating steak and ice cream every second of every day. I think it was more of the mental aspect of the surgery that was going to change my whole life being imminent than anything.

I weighed the night before surgery and I weighed 319.5 pounds... I loved stepping on the scale that night and knowing that was the last time I would EVER see that number again... for the rest of my life!

Monday, July 20, 2009

If I could have written a blog that day, I would have told you it was a day that changed my life forever. I arrived at the hospice center in Jacksonville, Florida around 4:30 a.m. after a 17 hour drive, sang our song to my daddy so he knew I was there, kissed him good night and slept in the chair right beside him. July 20th, I lost my daddy to Pancreatic Cancer that afternoon. My big, strong, proud, hardworking, God loving, gentle daddy lost his battle with cancer and part of me died with him that afternoon. I was present when he died, holding his hand, telling him it was okay to go and we'd all be okay. But, I was very numb. I cried a little, but it was mostly relief that I felt. No more suffering. No more pain. Now he could finally rest and be at peace. I felt guilty for being relieved but as I've come further from his passing, I think the relief I felt was God's way of letting me know he had control.

I did a lot of research in the months leading up to my daddy's death about the leading causes of cancer in Americans. I wanted to know what caused this aggressive cancer my Daddy fought so bravely. I wanted to know what I could do to keep myself and the rest of my family from suffering as my daddy had done without a complaint and always with a loving heart. Guess what was on the top of that list? Obesity. Guess what my daddy had been for most of his life? Obese. Guess what I was at that time of my life? That's right. Obese. Morbidly obese. I tipped the scales at 326 pounds in the Spring of 2009. On the day of my daddy's death, I weighed 325 pounds. According to the NY Daily News, obesity if the leading cause of cancer among American women. I was a woman, I was obese. I knew if I kept at it the way I was, I would be dead early in life.

I made the decision to have gastric bypass in February 2009. My momma had gastric bypass in August of 2004 and had fantastic success with it. Her whole life changed in a very positive way after her surgery. At the time I decided to have surgery, it had less to do with health and more to do with vanity. To put it very simply, I was sick and tired of being the fat girl. I wore size 26 jeans for crying out loud! Who wants to ONLY be able to buy their clothes online or at Lane Bryant?! When I was a teenager and in college, I struggled with weight a little. There were times I was hot and there were times when I was not. I loved the way I felt when I was "hot." I loved shopping for clothes. I loved going out. I loved taking pictures. I was bubbly, outgoing, goofy... in short, I was the best version of myself. I loved how I was when I was thinner. So much of my self esteem is wrapped up in my body image and how I feel about the way I look. I was unhappy, depressed, insecure and hated how I looked. Yeah, in college, I would gain weight and lose weight, sometimes as much as 50 pounds. But I was never so obese that my health suffered.

I was tired of struggling to breathe after a flight of stairs. I was tired of not being able to tie my shoes. I hated taking pictures. I hated shopping because I hated having to go to Lane Bryant to buy my clothes. I hated going out because I was always the fat friend. I didn't have very many friends because I wasn't confident and didn't want to be the fat friend. I couldn't be the bubbly, silly me because I was afraid I would look stupid. I let my weight control so much of me. Then my daddy got sick. And it was cancer.

My daddy had begun to get sick around Thanksgiving of 2008. He was 270 pounds and full of life when he began to get sick. He wasted away to 110 pounds at the time of his death. I didn't want that kind of death. I didn't want that kind of life. I didn't want to take 2 different blood pressure medications anymore. I didn't want to take medicine for the diabetes and sleep with a mask on my face to keep me breathing at night for the rest of my life. I didn't want to have an enlarged heart because my blood pressure was out of control. I knew I had to take control of my life. I knew I could not be obese any more. I would not be a victim of something I could possibly prevent. Initially it was my vanity that made me want the surgery, but in the end, and on July 20th, 2009, I knew I had to have this surgery to save my own life.

16 days later, August 5th, was another day that changed my life forever... again.