Well, I'm back somewhat now.

DD is feeling so good she's wanting to go home, so we'll take her this afternoon. Her 18YO son is home and now that she can take care of her basic needs he should be able to look after her. This has been an interesting experience for me.

First off, let me say that DD has a lot more courage than I do. After seeing what she has endured, I don't think I could ever do it. Her surgery itself took 4 hours because she carries all her weight around her middle and the surgeon told us he has never had so much trouble. He came very close to "opening", rather than doing this laparoscopically, and said if he had run into the situation early in his career he would've had to open.

Of course the length of the surgery, which was twice as long as normal, impacted how she felt after. He said normally it takes him only ten minutes to cut through the layer of belly fat and it took him an hour in her case. Since she is bi-polar and has a personality disorder, she feels pain more acutely than most people do, so she was quite miserable in the hospital. They make you ASK for pain meds, they don't just bring it when it's time. If you ask too early they just tell you it's not time yet. So you wait till it's time and then you wait 15 minutes to half an hour for them to come and give it to you. I was disappointed in the hospital staff more than just once, and once it was a big enough problem that I had to speak with the hospital liaison. Each shift change, I had to explain to the staff that DD feels pain more than others, has personality problems and is bi-polar, before they would become understanding. Up to that point they would treat her as if she was just being a big baby. One of the staff told her, "I have people who are a lot more sick than you.", and "You haven't been happy since you got here." There were times when the pain meds or the ice chips didn't come and didn't come until I would walk down to the nurses station and stand there till I could walk back to the room with it. One of the day nurses was sarcastic to me in a kind of a sweet way that made me wonder if that was her best attempt at being nice. Because there was so much drainage and we had the trip from Owasso to Dewey the doctor gave DD the option of staying another day. She was in so much pain, she opted to stay another day. I found out that the cafeteria doesn't serve supper on the week-nights (though they were still there and on Friday they made me a sandwich and wouldn't let me pay for it, bless their hearts) and they were closed entirely on Saturday. I ate Saturday breakfast out of the vending machines, wasn't hungry at lunch and thought I'd be home in time for an early supper. BUT, the doctor who would release DD did not come in till 3 or 4pm. By the time DD was all packed up, unhooked, and drugged for the trip, it was 5, and by the time we got to Bartlesville, all the drugstores that had the Lovenox in the correct strength were closed. She called the Walgreen's in Owasso and they said they had it, so we turned around and made the 40 minute trip back.

Once at Walgreen's, I presented DD's medical card and RX's to the pharmacist and he said, "It'll be an hour." By this time, it's 8pm. I explained to him the situation. DD's out in the car with her dad, needing to be taken home. She needs the RX's for the night. Of course none of the pharmacies in Bartlesville who have the Lovenox will be open on Sunday. He just says to me, "There are lots of people ahead of you, we are the only pharmacy open this late here, it'll be at least an hour."

At this point, I'm a wreck. I haven't eaten since breakfast. I'm worried about her out there in the car with her dad. She's got her water but didn't get any 'supper' because we thought we were going right home and she wanted to wait because what the hospital provided was kind of nasty and always the same flavor. We bought her a protein drink for diabetics and I'm worried that won't be good for her, but at this point she's complaining about being dizzy. I would've just taken her home and settled her in and run back to Owasso, but I wasn't sure they'd fill her RX's without her being there. Luckily they did not ask to see her. So I sit down and just start to cry, I can't help it. Another customer sits down beside me consoles me. Turns out she has a son with a personality disorder who has been considering bariatric surgery.

Fortunately, there is someone behind the pharmacy counter who has had bariatric surgery. She comes to the window and asks the name of the patient and tells me she's going to put the order through. If it hadn't been for her, I don't know how we would've fared.

We start for home and there has been an accident and the police have the road blocked off, so we have to find another way home. We get lost three times before we find HWY75. By the time we get her home, settled in the recliner, (she didn't think she'd be comfortable in the bed), get her breathing mask (she has sleep apnea) on and her leg-squeezer things the hospital sent home with her on, and get her meds in her, it's past midnight. She's exhausted.

It wasn't till yesterday that she felt well enough to be able to shower. We borrowed a shower seat from someone that was a great help. She had to come home with the drain bottle still in because she was still draining the liquid they put into her after surgery so much, and she's still draining too much for it to be removed. She had been having so much pain in the area of the incision through which they did all the work, that she got scared something was wrong. A call to the doctor took care of that, and yesterday she was feeling good enough to get herself onto the couch part of the time. We had a 3-footed cane that she's been using to help herself get up and down, and that's been a big help. The pain was kind of reduced to muscle spasms yesterday.

Today she is a lot better. Could lie down on the bed as she was getting dressed after her shower, but couldn't get back up by herself. I think she ought to stay here through at least tomorrow, but it has to be her decision. And her son's there to help her. I think I might be getting on her nerves. I'm not as stressed now as I thought I would be. Over the years, she and I have had a hard time getting along with each other, but we have both made an effort and it hasn't been too bad, I didn't think. Of course you see all these shows on TV where an adult has to spend lots of time with their mother and it's like torture, so maybe she feels that way and I just don't know. Nor do I want to.

DD weighs 350 and she's 5'4" tall. She has high blood pressure, back pain, knee pain, foot pain, and all those other afflictions I've mentioned previously. She has tried every diet there is. I hope and pray this will be successful for her because being this heavy will kill her if it continues. Anyone who has bariatric surgery is not looking for an "easy way out", because it is certainly not easy. They do it because it's their only option, other than invalidism and death. Even though she and I do have other issues, I have gained a great deal of respect for her for having the courage and the optimism to see this through.

I myself have gotten heavier than I have been in my life, but not nearly as much so as DD is. And I'm a little taller. But nonetheless, I've come to see that the junk food and the extra portions are the way to get yourself in a situation you can't easily get out of. Once you get so that it is laborious to walk, the pounds pile on like nobody's business. Before you know it, you're wearing size 30 clothes. I'm on a diet and I'm going to lose that 80 pounds I need to lose and getting out of my size 20's. No more excuses.

Sorry this is long, just wanted to share this experience with my OK Gardening friends. --Ilene