Last September I attended a post-op support group meeting. Doing so was one of the requirements — and trust me, there was a whole laundry list of ‘em — of my health insurance company and the surgical weight loss center I chose for my gastric bypass surgery. That particular meeting’s theme was “dropping our drawers”. Successful post-op patients modeled their pre-surgery clothes, while an overhead projector displayed their “before” photos and before/after stats (weight, physical limitations, health problems, etc.). I remember sitting there feeling teary-eyed, not only happy for them and proud of them, but thinking, “That will be me. I’m going to do that.”
And here I am. I did it. I’ve already gone down three pants sizes, a cup size and two band sizes. Shirt-wise I’m down too, though I haven’t bothered to try on any new shirts yet to see where I am now vs. where I was then.
Last night I attended another post-op support group meeting. This one was completely voluntary. I wanted to go, not only to hear a group of post-op patients talk about the reality after gastric bypass, but to see B and C, the two women that I attended the three pre-surgery group sessions with (I attended six pre-surgery sessions altogether: three individual ones with a nutritionist, and then three group ones with another staff member; the latter three were designed to prepare us for surgery and life after surgery). C had her surgery five days before mine, and B had her surgery two and a half weeks after mine. B came to visit me when I was in the hospital, and unfortunately I was able to visit C while I was still in the hospital, because she had complications from her surgery. She’s in her late 50s/early 60s (not sure which), and went into the whole process having several health issues. She developed a bowel leak after surgery, was rushed back in two days later for emergency surgery, developed an infection, renal failure, sepsis, the whole nine yards. There I was, the day after my surgery, slowly walking down to her room in my gown and pink slippers, dragging along my IV pole (god I hated that thing. DIE.), and she was laying there intubated, on a ventilator, looking near death. She almost died. Thankfully she didn’t. She was in the hospital for at least a month total, but she made it. When I saw her last night, she was down 55 lbs., and the open wound that developed near one of her incisions was doing much better than it was before. She bounced back, and then some.
I also visited B when she had her surgery, and she did great. It just goes to show you, surgery is different for everyone. Complications are a possibility, and you do need to realistically think about them if you are considering surgery.
And that brings me to this entry’s title. Gastric bypass, as you probably know, works by forcing restriction (the amount of food that can be consumed at any given time, as well as lengthening the amount of time it takes to digest it) and mal-absorption (approximately three feet of the small intestine are bypassed). But it is possible to have too much restriction. This usually happens when a stricture develops, which is a tightening of the exit “hole” of the stomach pouch. Ideally it should be as big around as a dime. If a stricture develops, it can be much smaller — about the size of a pencil eraser, or even the head of a pin. Food and water can’t escape easily, and a lot of vomiting usually results. And after going over my food intake and the frequent (read: almost daily; often several times a day; lately after every single meal; the other day after a protein shake; last night after drinking water) vomiting, my surgeon and co-surgeon were immediately all, “Crap, you have a stricture. Crap, your body is starving itself and that’s why you haven’t lost more weight and why you’re stalled. Crap, we need to get this taken care of right away!”
So right now I’m chilling in a Panera Bread that is just down the road from the hospital and three miles away from my surgeon’s office, in case they need to see me again today. They sent my information over to the hospital’s endoscopy department, and a nurse from there called me not long after I left my surgeon’s office this morning to get all of my info — starting weight, pre-surgery weight, current weight, height, any health conditions, how often I’m vomiting, what I vomit after (anything and everything; there’s no rhyme or reason to it!), etc. There’s a possibility they’ll call back today and want me to stop in today to fill out pre-admissions paperwork and all the jazz. I’ll be having the procedure done within the next week or two. Joy. Although I do say that sincerely, because not only does the physical act of vomiting suck, but even worse, I can’t keep anything down long enough to get any protein or nutrients! I’m tired and drippy all of the time, I don’t want to get out of bed in the morning, and I’m losing hair (not a lot that you can see the loss on my head, but enough that it’s all over the house, clogging up my brush and clogging up the drains, and coming out in multiple strands at once). Blah. 
The procedure itself doesn’t sound too bad, minus the sedation/knocking out part. I absolutely hate being put out, I hate the uncertainty of it. But obviously, since they’re going to be shoving a tube down my throat and into my stomach pouch (there’s a balloon attached to the end of the tube, which will be inflated in order to stretch open the size of my stomach pouch’s exit “hole”), I understand the necessity of it.
So, that’s what’s up. The frequent vomiting is definitely explained by a stricture. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it myself. Actually, I did. As of last week, a lot of my vomit has included water or protein shakes I’ve drank hours prior to eating, and that made me wonder… why is liquid sitting in my stomach pouch so long? And stricture was definitely the first thing that popped into my head!
Jenn I cant believe the things you have to go through but its for the best. I am glad that you and your docters figured out why you have been vomiting so much. I am truly amazed at how quickly you have lost the weight. You look awesome and are great inspiration.
Wow. I’m glad they are at least going to be able to fix the situation and hopefully everything will be a lot easier afterwards,
Fingers are crossed! <3
man that’s scary but at least that explains what’s going on and they’ll be able to fix it and hopefully after that you’ll be able to keep things down
Eek. Sorry about hearing this. I’m sure it will be a blessing when it’s over though. You are right though, I don’t think the procedure sounds too bad according to others who have had it done. So crossing fingers they do it soon so you can quit feeling so drained.
Hope everything goes well.
Oh gosh well let’s hope that everything goes okay with the procedure!! I had an endoscopy many years ago because I have gastritis and they had to pump me for acid juice that was over the limit in my stomach. I have to say though, when I woke up I felt very refreshed.
I am hoping things go well. I have been happy to hear your weight loss progress. This is a serious surgery, and you are right… people heal at different rates. I hope things go well with this surgery. I am sure if it does go well, you will be relieved and less tired. *hugs*
I am sure everything will go well. I know this is a pain now, but just wait until its all over
My sister-in-law had a GPB a few years ago and she too had major complications afterward – lots of bleeding, dumping, and many sleepless nights. However, she healed well and doesn’t regret having the surgery at all! Hope everything goes well — glad that you’re taking steps to improve your health and quality of life!
I will be praying for you during this second procedure. Here’s to hoping you do not have much more to go through… as it’s been a bumpy road for you already!
i hope things go really well for you i had gbs jan 7 2010 and i do regret it i hate it keep me posted