Still banded... still living

In the excitement of blogging about Cambodia on my other blog, I realize that I have neglected this one. I should provide an update. I am still banded. I am still losing. Still slowly, but I'm going in the right direction. There have been some bumps in the road but I'm down 37 pounds since surgery. Woo hoo!

Dr. McCloskey's practice at Magee is VERY conservative in how they give fills. I have a band that will hold 10 cc of saline. On my first fill I was given 1cc. I really didn't feel any restriction, which is what the band is supposed to do for you. Makes you full quickly, keeps you full for a long time. Not so much for me. So on my second fill on May 20th, they gave me another half cc to give me a grand total of 1.5 cc. Ironically, after this fill I felt even less restriction. I actually called a couple of weeks later to say "Hey - where'd my band go?" They assured me that these kinds of changes were normal and the restriction would come.

So after a month of slow and frustrating weight loss and lots of hungry times, I had to go in yesterday (July 1) for an un-fill. I'm leaving for Cambodia tomorrow and they just didn't want me to have much restriction at all for this kind of trip. This time I had a different P.A. (physician assistant) to do the unfill. She told me that they thought they should remove the .5 cc so that I would have just 1 cc in my band for the trip. She stuck in the syringe, pulled back the plunger.... and guess what? My band was almost empty. Just .5 cc in there. So my sense that the second fill had actually been an unfill was right. Very frustrating. Grrrrr. So they put back in the .5 cc and assured me that upon my return from Cambodia they would work with me more quickly to achieve good restriction so that this band thing will start working for me. I'm hoping this is how it works out. Ironically, the PA who gave me the weird fill last time is no longer with the practice. Strange.... but I'm counting on better experiences from here on out.

So, almost unrestricted I head off for Cambodia tomorrow. Since I'm sort of picky about food, it's hard for me to believe I might gain weight in Cambodia, but that could happened. On my previous two trips there I've lost weight, but this time, who knows. Now that I know it's not my imagination and I truly don't have restriction, it's going to be temping to overeat.

But I'm proud of how I've done over these last 4 months based on willpower. The band has helped keep me honest and motivated, even if it doesn't make me feel full. It's good to be heading off to Asia almost 47 pounds lighter than the last time I went. In the heat and humidity, that lighter load will feel pretty darn good I think.

I am the little engine that could...

So I'm now down by about 20 pounds. It is slow going. But for some reason, when I got on the scale this morning, for the first time I thought, "Hey - I'm going to do this. I'm going to lose enough weight to be a healthier person. I think I can. I think I can. I know I can. I know I can." Even after going to the extreme of surgery, there was a big part of me that still didn't think this was going to work. I was going to eat about 1000 calories for months, and remain morbidly obese. How could that be possible? Don't know, but I was sure that was what was going to happen.

Perhaps I was looking for magic, and when the magic didn't happen, I didn't believe at all. But I'm going to start believing again. In total, I would be a "normal sized" healthy person if I lost 80 pounds. I may never get there. But I'm going to get part way. And now I actually believe that wherever I end up, I'm going to be able to stay there. I'm going to be healthier. Keep in mind that for the next 11 days when I step on the scale and lose not an ounce I will probably slip back into feeling sorry for myself. But for today, I'm a believer. In more ways than one. :-)

Dear God, Have you noticed that I'm hungry....

So about two weeks post banding I'm down 10 pounds or so. Woo hoo. And then it stops. I'm eating nothing (or so it seems) and I'm not losing anything. Hello? God? Have you noticed that I'm not eating? What gives here? Can you help me out with this?

Seems it all comes down to my being a woman, yet again. A nutritionist explained to me that it's all about my body and its faith in its hunger/gatherer. Hello? I have a hunter/gatherer? Seems so. Let's take it back to cavewoman times. Apparently the woman would sit in the cave and wait for the hunter/gatherer to bring back the grum. Must have been nice. When the hunter/gatherer didn't show up with the grub, her body was smart enough to shut down to conserve energy and fat until he finally got back with the good stuff.

According to this nutritionist, I am a cavewoman. (Yes, I see the resemblance.) And because I have only been eating small amounts of very low calorie foods, my inner food burning intution has decided that the hunter/gatherer has gone on strike and is no longer returning with food. Therefore, my cavewoman body is not burning off fat, but hoarding it all just in case the hunter/gatherer is gone for a long time.

OK. I get it. But I don't like it. Cavewoman or not, I think I should be rewarded with a pound or so a day, not a pound or so a week. Grrrrr. If the cave people were alive today, you think the menfolk would go do the grocery shopping? I think not.

So I'm alive (I think)

Since I'm here to write these words, obviously I survived the surgery. I think. To be honest, it was worse than I expected and came with a few surprises. My surgery wasn't scheduled until mid-afternoon and with all of the anti-nausea meds and everything, I woke up quite parched. I was ready for the clear liquids I had been told by my fellow bandsters on the internet that I would get when I woke up. Umm... no. Not at Magee. A couple of hours later when I finally got to my room they gave me a sponge swab to use on my lips with a teeny cup of water. OK - true confession. I sucked that sponge swab as often as I could. My belly hurt. Worse than I expected. And worst of all (at least for me) I had a urinary catheter in place. Hello? What was that for? Everyone talks about how minor of a surgery the band is and then I wake up with a catheter that I had to keep in over night?? What gives? Let's just say that I hate catheters and I'll go happily someday if I don't have to have one again.

And then of course due to my supposed sleep apnea they made me keep an oxygen MASK on my face. Not the cute little nasal kind. A mask. And I'm claustrophobic. I woke up in the middle of the night, in pain, feeling like I was suffocating from that mask, the room was very dark, and I couldn't find my call button. Can you say "panic attack?" Yep, I had one. This is not a common occurance for me, but given the double whammy of my fears of a dark room with a mask on my face, I succombed. The nurses couldn't hear me yelling. I finally found the button and this poor young woman came in and I insisted that she get me up to move around, catheter or no catheter.

The next morning the catheter was removed and I was told that if I wanted to I could stay another night. Are you kidding me? This ain't the Ritz Carlton. I want to go home. And that's where I went. The first few days were tough. Very tough. As long as I was getting clear liquids I didn't really feel like I was getting my strength back. About a week later as I graduated to full liquids including protein drinks, etc., I woke up one morning and realized that I was back. Woo.

Tomorrow is the day

Well, tomorrow is the day. I'm anxious. Excited. Scared. Hungry. I've been on clear liquids again for 3 days and it sucks. I'll be on them after surgery for a while, too.

It is very hard to think about life that will change dramatically when it comes to food. Yes, I'll admit it... I like the stuff. Especially sweet stuff. Ironically, I feel much more "prepared" for the surgery than I did back at the end of January. This extra month has given me time to read, lurk on lapband message boards, and prepare myself for the changes that are ahead.

From what I've read, it seems like for some lucky "bandsters," the band limits the quantity of the food that they want or are able to eat but they're still able to eat about anything. Others aren't so lucky. Food gets stuck in the narrow area that is wrapped by the lap band. Some can't eat any breads, others meats, some rice, etc., etc. Seems like for every person it is a process of elimination to figure out what you can eat over time.

Even more than being anxious about what I'll be able to eat down the road, I am of course anxious about the surgery. Although I believe that this surgery is essential to my long term health, it is still an elective procedure. The thought of course keeps running through my head...."what if I never wake up from this and my kids are left knowing for the rest of their lives that their mom died having an operation that wouldn't have been necessary if she just laid off the desserts." There's a tough one to live with.

But I shall think positive thoughts and know that I am in great hands with Dr. McCloskey and the surgical team at Magee. And I shall continue to trust that God who has carried me to this very hour isn't about to drop me now!

Slight Delay

Well, the good news is that Jim's insurance has sent a letter to Magee saying that absolutely positively they will pay for the surgery no matter what my insurance does. Every claim will be filed with my insurance first, and then once it is denied Jim's will pay it. Still seems like a bunch of crap to me.

My heart goes out to those who don't have a secondary coverer to pick up the pieces when their insurance companies say no.

As for me, I'm now scheduled for February 29, 2008. A delay of 4 weeks. Not so bad in the grand scheme of things, I supposed, but I'm still disappointed.

Good, Lord! They Say I'm Skinny!

Someday I will laugh about this, but on this 31st day of January 2008, at 2:30 pm, I was told that I am not fat. According to the Board of Pensions of the Presbyterian church (USA) which is my health insurere, fat is a BMI of 40. I have a BMI of 39.2. I need to weigh 15 pounds more to be fat. The Board of Pensions has denied my request for coverage for this procedure. My doctor is filing a grievance. I’m going to Dairy Queen. I still can’t talk about it without getting tearful. The irony is here that my husband's insurance (Highmark BlueCross/BlueShield) has approved the procedure. Since they are my secondary insurer, however, the hospital is leary as to whether or not this would happen since it rarely does. If your primary says, "no," your secondary follows suit.

Surgery is delayed at least a month while the insurance jerks fight it out. I was on the phone today with lots of people at the Board of Pensions, Highmark, and the hospital. As I pointed out to the people at the B.O.P., the irony here is that if I was unemployed and used my husband's insurance I would be heading off for surgery tomorrow. But because I have given 20 years of my life to the Presbyterian Churchn and I'm held hostage by their second rate insurance coverage, I'll be going to the Dairy Queen instead.

I wish I had the time and energy to become a champion for justice. The health insurance industry is badly broken and needs people to get angry and motivated to call for change. But for today, I'm just tired and defeated and sad. It took A LOT of time and emotional struggle to get myself to the point where I was ready to take this plunge and now somebody went and moved the pool.

In preparation for the surgery I have been on nothing but clear liquids for 3 days. So I am one cranky lady by now. But with surgery postponed, I'm going to eat a sandwich.