My bariatric experiences, part 2 Nine Dark Days

The following blog is part 2 of a series describing my experiences with having surgery on Sept 25 of last year.  I'm writing because of requests I've received from some of my friends.  This describes the time leading up to surgery.

I was delayed for nine months before I had bariatric surgery.  This is  typical of many people who have it. There are many tests to go through first.
I had to have another meeting with my General Practitioner, who was to make the referral.  Then in April I was contacted by the surgeon's office.  The first step was to  attend an informational seminar.  In May I met with the surgeon, who filled me in on what was expected. I had to have an endoscopy, a meeting with the nutritionist and a psychological evaluation before insurance would approve it.  Meanwhile,  my father took ill and died and I cancelled all upcoming appointments until we dealt with more pressing issues.  As I was dealing with my father's death,  the specter of a life-changing and potentially dangerous surgery loomed over me, and there was a heaviness on my soul for several months.  

My endoscopy revealed that I had a hiatal hernia that would have to be fixed at the same time. The nutritionist described the eating regimen that I would follow for the rest of my life--quarter-to-half cup servings, sixty grams of protein and sixty ounces of fluids a day, along with sixty minutes of exercise. No eating and drinking at the same time. That in itself almost put me off the procedure, since walking up a flight of stairs got me winded.  Not only that, but carbonated drinks could potentially send me to the hospital.

Surgery doesn't take off the weight--it only makes the diet more bearable.  It still must come off the old-fashioned way--by eating less and exercising more. 

The last hurdle before surgery was the psychological visit.  Piece of cake,  I thought.  They gave me an online exam to determine if I was a good risk for  the procedure.  While the overall response was positive,  one answer almost got me branded as a poor risk. The question said, "I will change my lifestyle if the doctor tells me I should."  If I had changed my lifestyle when the doctor told me I should in the past, I would not need this procedure!  I had to go back and change my answer.  So finally I passed the tests, and my surgery was scheduled.  

I misunderstood the doctor's instructions. I thought I was to start watching my weight a couple of weeks before my surgery.  He meant that I should start watching it right then, in April.  Instead, that summer, while awaiting my next appointment, I ate like every meal was my last.  So it was no surprise when following my father's death, I put on extra pounds.

On September 16, 2013 I met with the surgeon for a pre-op visit.  Since my last visit four months ago, I had gained fourteen pounds!  The frowning nurse said she was not sure with my sudden weight gain the doctor would proceed with the operation. 

The problem was the liver. In the procedure they have to lift the liver. When we gain weight,  fat is initially stored there. So it can grow to twice the normal size after an eating binge.  In order to have successful surgery, the liver needs to be in normal shape.   

I was  nearly in tears.  I felt like a failure. I wondered if I had come so far only to lose my chance at the end.

The doctor was matter-ofact about it.  He put me on a pre-op diet for nine days consisting of three protein shakes a day, one meal entirely of protein and nothing else.  He said that I must lose ten pounds in nine days, or the surgery was off. 

That night,  after a dinner of salmon and salad, I started on protein shakes. In the middle of the night though I woke in a cold sweat.  Whether it was an anxiety attack or sugar withdrawal I cannot say, but it was a dark, oppressive feeling that prayer would not remove.  By the morning the feeling had passed, but it recurred over the next few days.

I have heard people talk of carbohydrate addiction.  I always thought is was psychological, but now I know it is as real as heroin addiction. There were moments I would have taken hostages for a Bojangles biscuit.

I thought about St. Anthony, one of the fathers of monasticism. Just after he went to the desert he was being beset by demons.  He wrote that they were all the temptations of the world he had left behind.  He never kew the power of them over his life until he left the world.  So it was with food,  as I found during that nine day fast. It's not until we stop a behavior that we understand how completely it grips us.  Getting away from carbs caused me to realize how much of a captive to food I actually was.  At times, I couldn't think of anything else. 

Even so,  it became a crucial experience to me. Other joys became much more real.  Stuffing myself with food was easy comfort,  but I had numbed myself to more important things. The problem with addictions is that they dominate the pleasure centers in your brain so that nothing seems good or pleasing without them. I had trouble conceiving of a life without comfort food.   As food recedes in importance, other things fill their place. Food had comforted me when I was down,  but it should never have been my comfort.  It's fuel--that is all.  Using it for comfort made it into an idol. 

Looking backwards on those nine days, I learned that we can get over addiction if we are willing to face the pain.  Those nine days did more to assure my progress than the surgery itself.

By the end of those nine days, I had lost fifteen pounds.  The doctor said my liver was perfect.