Just a little catch up post

Yeah right lol knowing how I love to ramble, this little post will most likely be a page or more by the time I am done. So....... On May 18th I went into the hospital ER. I had had stomach pains since the previous Friday and decided that they were not gas or food related and I needed to see a doctor. They weren't screaming in distress pains but they were enough to wake me up out of a sound sleep. They started in the center of my stomach near my naval and gradually moved over to the right side of my tummy. My roommate thought perhaps appendicitis as her son had had it, but no one was sure. By Sunday evening, I was starting to run a low grade temperature and was really feeling ill. So off to the emergency room we went
              .                                                                                                                                                 So after a CT scan and blood work and a pee test, they determined that yes, my appendix was not in good shape. It had not ruptured yet but it definitely needed to come out. They admitted me into the hospital at 11pm on Sunday evening with the surgery scheduled at 7am the following Monday morning. Needless to say, I did not get much sleep during the in between hours. Surgery is scary. You are literally putting your life into the hands of strangers and hoping everything turns out alright. The fact that both the surgeon and the anesthesiologist have to go over every possible bad scenario doesn't help your nerves either. By the time they were both done telling me what could go wrong even though the odds were minimal, I was convinced I was a goner on the table. I am not a super religious person, but as I laid in the recovery room waiting to go into the OR I looked up at the ceiling and I whispered " Ok God, I am in Your hands now, please take care of me."
      

                                                                                                                                                                                                                         I got wheeled in and the room is so bright. I took a peek around and I see all these people in gowns and caps like on tv. Everyone is busy getting stuff ready and I see tall shelves encased in glass almost like refrigerator shelves full of god knows what and machines beeping and whirring. Someone came up behind me and I heard a voice telling me that they were going to put something in my IV to relax me. After that, I am told to transfer from the hospital bed to the operating table by rolling and scooting over. I remember the something to relax me kicking my ass at that point and yelling "Whoooooooooooo omg I can feel that now" and everyone in the room cracking up. Then lying on the table and a green rubber mask thing covering my nose and mouth. I remember the dark green color and I remember the smell of rubber. That is the last thing I remember.
                                                                                                                                                                   I heard my name being called and I remember really struggling to get my eyes open. I was back in the recovery room and Ralph was sitting next to me reading a book. It was hard to stay awake and I know nurses were checking my blood pressure and my temp and I had my IV checked several times but mostly I was in a fog and sleeping. They finally put me in a wheel chair and took me back to my hospital bed. I don't remember much of that except that when I got up to get into the bed I started retching. I didn't throw up because there was nothing in my system to throw up, but I couldn't stop the dry heaves for about 10 or 15 minutes. They gave me a nausea pill and it stopped.   
                                                                                                                                                                The rest of that day ( it was 10 am when I was back in my room) I pretty much slept, and watched tv when I was awake. Lunch came and even though I hadn't eaten in almost 24 hours, I didn't touch it. Dinner came and I think I took 4 sips of some awful cream of broccoli soup, and drank a 7 up that Ralph brought me and that was it. Next day breakfast I received a piece and a half of french toast and I couldn't eat more than one half. So, you get the picture, I wasn't eating anything really the first 2 days. They came in on the 2nd day and told me my white blood count went up instead of down and I had to stay in the hospital another day. I was not a happy camper but I really had no choice in the matter. Finally Wednesday I was released and got to come home.
                                                                                                                                                                To say I was happy is an understatement. I had never missed my home so much as I did those three days in the hospital. I was given a bottle of vicodin, and two strong antibiotics which kicked my butt for the week I had to take them, but I was in my own house! Nothing made me happier than being in my own home.
                                                                                                                                                                  Thursday I stepped on the scale thinking that because I hadn't eaten for those 3 days I would have dropped more weight. NOPE! Actually I had gained 8 lbs which really upset me. I mean I didn't eat hardly a bite and I gain weight? How was that possible? Then I stopped to think about it. I had surgery so the muscles were cut, and swollen which meant I had fluid in me and fluid means weight. After another 3 days I got up on the scale again, and this time not only was the 8 that I had gained gone, another 2 were also missing! So, I was up to almost a 28lb loss since the start in January so I was feeling a little proud of myself for that but it was short lived. Because I hadn't eaten in the beginning, I let myself indulge a bit more than I should have. I wasn't measuring my servings, and I was eating more junk than I should. Two weeks after being home, I got on the scale again and saw I had gained back the extra 2 that I lost after surgery, so I was back to square one so to speak.
                                                                                                                                                                    I am now back on track, and being more cautious as to what I am eating and what portion size. I got on the scale today and I have now lost back one of the pounds with one more to go. I have a wedding coming up this weekend which means eating out, and having a few drinks at the reception. It also means I can go swimming in the lake and do more walking around so I'm hoping to keep things in check. I have to decide whether to give my self permission to just eat and drink what I want all weekend, or try and keep things in proportion and stick to the plan. Knowing me, Im probably going to do a little of both. I will let you know. Rottie