My Adventures With RNY

Hey there, my name is Jen and a little less than 6 months ago I had Gastric Bypass (RNY to be specific.) I was 393 on the date of my surgery.
I know there are a lot of people out there who are either interested in having this done themselves or who are just plain curious about it and want to know more. Through this blog, I guess I'm hoping to be able to educate and maybe even find a way to deal with the occasional ups-and-downs of this complicated process.
A lot of people seem to think that Gastric Bypass is a quick, easy solution to the obesity problem. That simply is NOT the case. In fact its far from it. Gastric Bypass is a complete life change. If you're getting ready to have Gastric Bypass, you must prepare for not only the physical change that it will bring but the psychological and emotional ones that also tag along. Your whole life, is literally about to change in a huge way, and in order to use the tool successfully you have to be as prepared as possible.

On August 25th 2010, at Fairoaks Inova Hospital in Virginia, Dr. Anez performed the almost $30,000 surgery that would change my life as I knew it. I was at the hospital bright and early (6am) to check in, and by a little after 8am I was being taken back to the O.R. and give that wonderful stuff that would knock me out for the duration of the surgery.
Sometime around 10am I woke up in the recovery area to hear my name being called. Next to my bed was a delightful, 40-something male nurse with a protable computer cart. I was attached to the standard pulse ox, nasal canula, and IV. I was incredibly sleepy, and somewhat annoyed at being woken up. My oxygen levels were in the low 70's and they are supposed to be in the mid to high 90's, so I was told to take some deep breaths. I sharply inhaled to take what I thought was going to be a deep breath but turned out to be the beginning of a coughing fit. The nurse told me that it was ok, and not to worry because my lungs needed time recover after being intubated during surgery. I began to breath as deeply as I possibly could with out inducing more coughing, but I was so darn tired and my body was obviously more interested in sleep. I kept forgeting to breathe deep and my oxygen levels barely stayed in the upper 70's. I was told I would have to stay in recovery until I got my oxygen levels higher. At this point I was more than ready to be moved to my own room and get settled, the low oxygen levels didnt bother me, so I figured it couldnt be that bad. I didnt feel like I was having any trouble breathing, and I wasnt gasping for air or anything.
An hour and a half later I was able to get my oxygen levels into the low 80's which was good enough for them, and I FINALLY got my own room! I met my nurses, and got my pain meds. I was allowed to rest for a little while and I couldnt have been more grateful for that. Within a couple of hours I was encouraged to try and use the restroom. This would be my next big hurdle. I had to go... but to actually do it was more challenging that I ever thought it would be. THANK GOD for the grab bars on the walls or I would not have been able to sit down. I was terrified that I would rip a stitch, and all I could picture was the potential gaping would that would leave in my upper abdomen. Surely enough though, I made it through the process just fine, and without even tearing one stitch. Whoo hoo! Second battle won!
Next I was encouraged to go on a walk around the floor.... I was not looking forward to this. However, with IV pole in hand I ventured out of my room and into the hallways. It was considerably easier than I thought it was going to be, and I ended up taking 8 laps around the entire floor which was quite impressive for the same day post op.
Three days later I was doing well enough to go home!
My husband and our two year old daughter came to pick me up and bring me back home. I was given instructions not to lift anything heavier than 10lbs for 90 days and no more than 30lbs for the next month after that. I was told to wear my abdominal binder for at least 60 days, and when I took a shower I was not allowed to let my 17 stitches get hit by the stream of water from the shower.
The rules didnt end there, but its late here, and I'd better save some of the writing for tomorrow.