Month: February 2019

To quote George Weasly, “I’m holey, get it?”

Thursday was not good. It started out OK, just very early. I had a 5:30am wake up call to get showered with a disinfectant wash, then get shaved from nipple to mid thigh. Everything. Got. Shaved. They were thorough. That’s going to be fun when it grows back. Surprisingly, I wasn’t as anxious as I expected I’d be. Maybe it was just the finally getting on with it.

When it was all done and dusted, I was completely f’ed up from the anesthesia and I couldn’t get comfortable. I just tried to get through the day 30 minutes at a time. My back was killing me, and just typing a few words on my phone took more energy than it was worth. That’s the thing you don’t expect. I expected to feel like my insides would get scrambled, and they did, but the worst pain was in my back from lying down all the time. By the end of the day, I did manage to get up and go to the loo (all those IV fluids), and the deep breathing exercises helped with the pain and with the general malaise. Katy came for a quick visit, which allowed me to put on some proper underwear – something that most everyone takes for granted but it makes a real difference, believe me. I think I managed to properly fall asleep around 3am for a couple of hours.

Friday was already better, but I was still super tired. I was now allowed to drink 20-to-40 ml of water per hour. Figure half of a shot glass. That you have to fill from a 1l bottle, with very little coordination and one hand tied up with a perfusion drip. More walking, more breathing.

Still no ability to focus, so music was my distraction of choice. Roko popped in after work for a quick visit, but the room was a bit of a zoo. I’d been lucky enough so far to be alone in a dual bed room but my luck ran out on Friday when they wheeled in the proverbial grumpy old man. Apparently, they close the ICU ward over the weekend, so anyone who’s left goes to the wards. That’s what he said anyway. He complained about the food, he complained about the nurses, he couldn’t properly use the headphones for the TV, he couldn’t even open his tea bag. He was… a pretty bad roommate. He snored, but I’m usually immune to that, but he also was a loud cell-phone talker and, unforgivably, a loud chewer! The perfusion machine was also acting up in the night. At one point, I had 3 nurses trying to sort it out – which they did because the staff here are all lovely and professional and kick ass.

I was very happy when the old guy buggered off this morning, and calm descended one more in the room. Today, I’ve had a bowel movement (another big milestone when you get your guts tampered with, and another thing most people take for granted), my bandages taken off, had a shower, had solid(ish) food and had tea and coffee. With half a sugar. Bliss! Now if I could just tame the crazy gurgling in my stomach and guts. Seriously, the noise!

The weather has been insane. Its the middle of February and I’ve had the windows open all day. It’s been like 14 degrees outside, and the room is facing the lake so gets sun for most of the day.

Katy and Ben came over for a while – Ben finally having the cream of broccoli soup he’s been wanting from the canteen. So now the plan is a good night sleep (hopefully) and going home tomorrow.

Then the next phase begins.

One thing I have noticed on a few occasions, you really can’t complain about Swiss hospital food. I had my appendix removed at the Jewish General Hospital during passover. All the staff carried snacks illicitly obtained outside of the premises. I saw what was given to Katy’s grandmother during her many hospital visits in the UK.

As far as a last meal of solid food for a while, I could do worse. When Katy had her skin grafts years ago, she was eating better food than what I was cooking at home. And this is the bog-standard menu. You have the option to go full a-la-carte if you want (albeit for a price).

I was told that I had to bring Parsley and Bobbles with me, so that they could keep an eye on me and keep me out of trouble.

I’ve been on a year-long journey that reaches a big milestone tomorrow. For the past year, I’ve been followed by an obesity clinic in Lausanne, in preparation for gastric bypass surgery, which is scheduled to happen tomorrow morning.

I’ve been followed by a multi-disciplinary team of an obesity specialist, dieticians, a nutrition psychologist and a surgeon. I quit smoking. I started doing small changes to my eating and drinking habits. Just with those small changes, and not a lot else, I’ve already lost 10 kilos. I started at 130+ and as of last night, I was at 120 kilos. If all goes according to plan, by this time next year, I’ll be at 85 kilos. To put that in perspective, I’m going to lose the weight of a typical 10 year old child. Or one big black labrador. Half of that weight loss will happen in the first 3 months, and then taper off gradually.

I’m… scared. Hopeful. Anxious. Positive. Intellectually, I know I’m doing the right thing for the right reasons. I’m also constantly second guessing my decisions, and actively trying not to let the bad thoughts get a foothold. I have strict orders from Katy and from my therapist not to die or stroke out tomorrow morning. Going to do my best. So. Yeah. Watch this space.