I was completely shocked when I came back and noticed I hadn't had a new entry to this blog for OVER TWO YEARS!!! Wow! Lazy girl! Ha ha! So much has happened in these past two years and I could go on for days but I will just hit on a few of the more pertinent happenings.
First, my band has been so tight, it has actually been filled to 9cc's (my band holds 10). This was a fun time. I actually got down to 188 pounds but it was because all I could consume was soup (very, very slowly) water, basically all liquids.
One weekend we decided to go camping......
So picture this: beautifully pristine, SILENT desert surroundings, warm weather, weight loss to the point that I'm ready, willing and able to go hiking. Hell yeah! Give me a hand full of those chips! My band has been doing good- if I have some chips...no harm, no foul! WRONG!!!! Those things got stuck and when they did, I found myself laying on the bed with excruciating pain like I've never felt before. The pain shot through the front of my chest so badly it was hard to know if it was band pain or a heart attack. It jutted up my neck and throat are and into my jaw and also resonated out of the left side of my back bouncing between my shoulder blade and spine. It was terrible. It wasn't long before I was in the bathroom vomiting simply in an effort to get some kind of relief from the pain. Vomiting did provide some immediate relief but in the long run, it really just aggravated the band site to the point that I couldn't even swallow my own saliva. So, there I was: swallow, then a few minutes later up it comes...swallow saliva, a few minutes later up it comes, and so on. This went on for 24 hours- it even woke me up every ten minutes or so throughout the night to vomit and it was during this time in the evening I came to realize I was now vomiting bile.
To everyone's dismay (including my own) we had to leave our camping trip to get me to the hospital to have the fluid removed immediately. I was severely dehydrated, cracked lips, weak, loopy in the head, it was not pretty. Once we arrived at the hospital I was informed my Dr. wasn't coming- that the staff at this hospital had been personally trained by my Doc on this procedure and were perfectly capable. I was a tad nervous but the pain overtook my nervousness, I even had to sit on the bed with a bucket because my body was continuing to purge every drop of saliva and bile it could muster. You all might think I'm crazy but it was at this time I found myself terribly sympathetic to those with eating disorders who can't keep food down because it comes right back up. I doubt they have the exact pain I was suffering from, but not being able to keep anything down is NOT a good feeling.
A Doctor in his mid to upper 40's introduced himself to me and began to tell me how he'd never done an aspiration before and am I sure I'm ok with him doing it. I told him he didn't have to if he was unsure, that he could just bring me the needle and I could do it myself. That may sound funny, but I wasn't being an ass, I was completely serious and he could tell that. I could tell he was terribly nervous about it. I took his hand and put it on my belly where my port is located and I told him, "You feel that? That's the port. Now give me your finger and I'll show you where the center is." I placed his finger dead center and told him, "Now, when you have the needle placed directly perpendicular to the center of the port, I will lift my head, tightening my abdominal muscles and the port will stabilize and come closer to the surface. Just stab the needle straight in, not at an angle, and you'll be good to go." He still seemed rather uneasy but I told him it would be ok and told him I trusted him (and I did)- that it only seemed difficult. He centered the needle and I lifted my head. He said, "Are you ready?" I responded, "Yeah, it's ok, this really doesn't hurt. With a little bit of force, push that needle in." He did so and immediately the plunger began to back out and the syringe filled with fluid. He had a beautiful smile on his face. It was clear he'd been concerned and was happy things had gone successfully. He even went back to the break room which was near where I was and began to tell everyone in a very excited tone that he'd just done his first band aspiration. He did well. I was empty now and couldn't get enough water down my gullet. The Dr. wanted to admit me because of my color as well as a slew of other indicators of dehydration but I refused. I knew it was simply a matter of getting that damned fluid removed...and the water back in my body.
Six days and numerous gallons of gatorade and water later, I found myself finally rehydrated and woofing as much food down as I possibly could. Ugh. Here we go again and my weight went up and up and up and up. . .
First, my band has been so tight, it has actually been filled to 9cc's (my band holds 10). This was a fun time. I actually got down to 188 pounds but it was because all I could consume was soup (very, very slowly) water, basically all liquids.
One weekend we decided to go camping......
So picture this: beautifully pristine, SILENT desert surroundings, warm weather, weight loss to the point that I'm ready, willing and able to go hiking. Hell yeah! Give me a hand full of those chips! My band has been doing good- if I have some chips...no harm, no foul! WRONG!!!! Those things got stuck and when they did, I found myself laying on the bed with excruciating pain like I've never felt before. The pain shot through the front of my chest so badly it was hard to know if it was band pain or a heart attack. It jutted up my neck and throat are and into my jaw and also resonated out of the left side of my back bouncing between my shoulder blade and spine. It was terrible. It wasn't long before I was in the bathroom vomiting simply in an effort to get some kind of relief from the pain. Vomiting did provide some immediate relief but in the long run, it really just aggravated the band site to the point that I couldn't even swallow my own saliva. So, there I was: swallow, then a few minutes later up it comes...swallow saliva, a few minutes later up it comes, and so on. This went on for 24 hours- it even woke me up every ten minutes or so throughout the night to vomit and it was during this time in the evening I came to realize I was now vomiting bile.
To everyone's dismay (including my own) we had to leave our camping trip to get me to the hospital to have the fluid removed immediately. I was severely dehydrated, cracked lips, weak, loopy in the head, it was not pretty. Once we arrived at the hospital I was informed my Dr. wasn't coming- that the staff at this hospital had been personally trained by my Doc on this procedure and were perfectly capable. I was a tad nervous but the pain overtook my nervousness, I even had to sit on the bed with a bucket because my body was continuing to purge every drop of saliva and bile it could muster. You all might think I'm crazy but it was at this time I found myself terribly sympathetic to those with eating disorders who can't keep food down because it comes right back up. I doubt they have the exact pain I was suffering from, but not being able to keep anything down is NOT a good feeling.
A Doctor in his mid to upper 40's introduced himself to me and began to tell me how he'd never done an aspiration before and am I sure I'm ok with him doing it. I told him he didn't have to if he was unsure, that he could just bring me the needle and I could do it myself. That may sound funny, but I wasn't being an ass, I was completely serious and he could tell that. I could tell he was terribly nervous about it. I took his hand and put it on my belly where my port is located and I told him, "You feel that? That's the port. Now give me your finger and I'll show you where the center is." I placed his finger dead center and told him, "Now, when you have the needle placed directly perpendicular to the center of the port, I will lift my head, tightening my abdominal muscles and the port will stabilize and come closer to the surface. Just stab the needle straight in, not at an angle, and you'll be good to go." He still seemed rather uneasy but I told him it would be ok and told him I trusted him (and I did)- that it only seemed difficult. He centered the needle and I lifted my head. He said, "Are you ready?" I responded, "Yeah, it's ok, this really doesn't hurt. With a little bit of force, push that needle in." He did so and immediately the plunger began to back out and the syringe filled with fluid. He had a beautiful smile on his face. It was clear he'd been concerned and was happy things had gone successfully. He even went back to the break room which was near where I was and began to tell everyone in a very excited tone that he'd just done his first band aspiration. He did well. I was empty now and couldn't get enough water down my gullet. The Dr. wanted to admit me because of my color as well as a slew of other indicators of dehydration but I refused. I knew it was simply a matter of getting that damned fluid removed...and the water back in my body.
Six days and numerous gallons of gatorade and water later, I found myself finally rehydrated and woofing as much food down as I possibly could. Ugh. Here we go again and my weight went up and up and up and up. . .
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