Thursday, June 16, 2005

Preparation for Change

Tomorrow I go to New Haven to meet with Dr. B., my surgeon for the gastric bypass, and have pre-surgery testing. You all know how much I love going to doctor's appointments. I am feeling rather split these days. On one hand, the surgery is no big deal; I have been through worse, and more painful surgeries in the last decade or so.

 The dangerous parts-anesthesia, heart failure, infection-are things over which I have no control . I've done my homework, picked a meticulous surgeon, chosen a good hospital, and made the decision. The rest is in the hands of the Mother.  

On the other hand, OMG! I am choosing to have my stomach made into a pouch the size of my Chihuahua's brain. I have to learn to eat all over again, and in a radically different way. I'll have to cope with everyone asking me how I am, making a fuss, commenting on my body size-smaller is good, but it is also noticeable and fair game for discussion. I will also have to deal with what ever demons rise when I can no longer use food as an escape All stuff I'd rather not have to do.  

But I will.  

I know that I am not someone who leaps gladly and hopefully into change. For a lot of reasons, change is scary for me, and I always want to put it off. On the other hand, I have learned that I actually do change quite well after I have spent inner time on the idea of making whatever change life necessitates. I can see this well with 20/20 hindsight, but still am struggling to believe changing well will happen again this time.  

But it will.  

I can see this is by way of a pep talk to myself, in preparation for tomorrow's adventures, Poor Rene is taking me down, preparing for a long day, and working to convince me she is happy to do so. She is a good woman, because she hates hospitals a lot more than I do! I'll let everyone know how it goes.  

Blessings, Margo    

Saturday, June 11, 2005

Yale Loses, but We Win

Tradition will out-Harvard won the varsity race in the Harvard-Yale Regatta this morning, as it has so many times in the last 140 years. It was, as usual, subdued across the street today, though they'll get rowdy enough later tonight, when the serious partying begins. Tomorrow they will nurse their hang-overs and pack up to go home.

We benefited big time this year, however. One of the Yale cooks who hasn't been up in several years dropped by this morning to say hello and ask after Meg. Generations of neighborhood children have grown up with Yale, and Meg was no exception. She was almost 5 her first time Yale was in residence, and enthralled by these tall young gods who appeared quite unexpectedly one day.    

As the years rolled by she was first a brat(to be avoided), then a kid(to be included in croquet and foursquare games), then an almost teenager( to be chuckled at) then a teenage girl(to be ignored), and finally a kitchen employee for several years(interesting because she rowed crew for URI), before she graduated from college and moved on.    

The years she worked the kitchen and dining room she became close to one of the cooks, who fed her, and by extension, us very well. He was back today to work just the Regatta, and, boy was it good to have him in the kitchen today. After stopping by this morning, he arrived back at 2:00 with lunch-chicken and veggies and pasta, and promised dinner. He returned at 7:30 with two plates of Chateaubriand(I kid you not!) with asparagus and mashed potatoes, which happened to be "left over" from the Official Senior Banquet. It fed four of us very well, and in a manner to which we are quite unaccustomed.    

Needless to say, I am glad he is here now, and not after my gastric bypass! Three of the four of us here tonight rarely eat red meat, but made an exception as soon as that prime beef came through the doorway. Neighbors usually end up with some food after the rowers have gone, because Yale does not want to cart food back to New Haven, but this is the first time we've been so lucky on Regatta Day.  

And poor Meg had to work 6 PM to 6 AM, and missed it all. Did we save her any? Not a smidgen! Sometimes I am a very baaaadddd mother!    

 Blessings, Margo  

Tuesday, June 7, 2005

Yale is in Residence

  Well, early summer has arrived, and with it heat, and, more importantly, the Yale Men's Crew. We live across the street from on the Thames River (pronounced with the "th" sounding, unlike it's name sake in London), and across the street from us is the Yale Boathouse. Not the fancy, up-to-date one in New Haven, you understand, but the big old run down barn-like buildings where they come to practice for the Harvard-Yale Regatta, known in Yale & Harvard rowing circles as "The Race."  

The Race is a four mile all out sprint against Harvard, which has a boathouse down river. This is the longest running intercollegiate sporting event in the country, now going strong after more than 125 years! For the first 20 years or so the Race was rowed on Lake Winnipesaukee, in NH, then moved to the Thames because it was more or less half way between Boston and New Haven.  

It is also the longest rowing race in all of rowing, an incredible athletic feat that Yale usually loses. alas. It doesn't matter if they beat Harvard during the regular rowing year, they rarely win at "The Ferry." Nevertheless, over the years Yale has made itself quite well known in the neighborhood, which has seen Yalies come and Yalies go for over 100 years.  

At first the boys stayed in neighbors' homes, but as time went on they bought property, added onto the old houses and made themselves a temporary home away from home where generations of rowers have come, spent two or three weeks training for the long haul up the river, rowed the race, and gone home.  

Several times I have met former Yale rowers in other situations-outside of Philadelphia where I grew up, or in the Poconos- and each time I tell them I live in the house across the street, they say, "The red one with the seagull on the roof?" Yup. that's us.(The seagull is wooden) And for the last 26 years the one with the "Row Well Yale" sign up on the roof. We townies have our own traditions, too, you know.  

A few years ago, Rene added to the neighborhood traditions by painting "Go Yale Go" in blue on the street. The next year she added a big white Y on either side. Occasionally she has to repaint it. This year the blue is outlined in white, and the Y' s have oars on either side, like the huge Yale rowing flag that flaps in the breeze on the top of the dorm building. Shhhh. Don't tell anyone, I am sure the public works department does not approve.  

The first race-the freshmen-is usually on Friday night, along with the Yale Rowing Alumni Association Cocktail Party, to which the neighbors (that's us!)are invited. It is the only cocktail party I attend most years, and neighbors talk to neighbors, while Yale talks to Yale. It is actually fun, as we try to get as much food and drink out of Yale as is neighborhoodly possible in one three hour interval. I usually don't last that long, since I only have one cocktail, and don't like to stand too long. Still, it is an event to attend. We catch up on what has gone on all winter, while the alumni reminisce about rowers past and discuss their stock portfolios. ( I made that last part up, I am rarely privy to their conversations, I'm too busy with neighbors!)  

The other three races are on Saturday, the sophmores row 2 miles, the JV , 3 miles, and the Varsity, a muscle screaming, lung crushing, agonizingly long 4 miles. They usually start down near the mouth of the river and row upstream to Bartlett's cove, which is about a mile downstream from us. We stand on Yale's property, listen to the race on the radio and scream for Yale to hurry up. With binoculars, we can see them cross the finish line, usually second.  

Still, since none of us went to Yale, it is not the end of the world, and we come back across the street to watch the alumni and rowers' families clog up the neighborhood with volvos and audis and mercedes, while they wander around telling each other, wait till next year! When, of course, the same scenario will be played out once again. It's a neighborhood/Yale tradition!  

Blessings, Margo

Wednesday, June 1, 2005

And so, onto June...

Mood:  Exhausted! 

Well, thank Goddess May is over! I do not usually wish time away, but last month had way too many doctor/therapy/PT appointments, and I am so into medical stress fight or flight responses that I am exhausted full time. Of course some of the exhaustion is due to medication, obesity, and-new problem- sleep apnea.  

 I "flunked" my sleep study test over the weekend. I had been asleep less than an hour before Gretchen, the respiratory therapist, came running in to put me on a CPAP. For those not in the know, CPAP stands for "Continuous Positive Airway Pressure (CPAP): CPAP works by gently blowing pressurized room air through the airway at a pressure high enough to keep the it open. This pressurized air acts as a "splint." The pressure is set according to the patient’s needs at a level that eliminates apneas and hypopneas that cause awakenings and sleep fragmentation"-The American Sleep Apnea Association. Goody, goody a machine to sleep with.  

I did have some fun there, though, because I could play with the pulse/oxymeter, which measures one's pulse and the amount of oxygen in the blood. Mine, of course is low, which is why I am tethered to oxygen full time now. Before the test actually started I took the oxygen off, tested my level resting, then walked up and down the halls at various speeds, rushing back to my bed to see how I was doing. Little things amuse me, you understand.  

I ran quite low when I hustled, but I recovered quite quickly, a good thing according to Gretchen. Now I have to call my PMD to ask them to call the sleep study pace to hurry the report so I can get the CPAP quickly so I can be on it long enough before surgery so they don't postpone the gastric bypass, which wouldgivememoretimetgainweight, andtheywon'tdothesurgery ifIgainsomuchasonepound......

 Can you see how my brain is running, running on and on and on? Although I am holding it together pretty well on the outside, I am having to work hard on the inside to deal with the stress and related anxieties. And though a neighbor bleated "Take long walks" to me the other day, I cannot go far enough to out walk myself!  

Actually, despite all this, I am pleased that I am doing fairly well-talking to friends, meditating, getting out of the house most days, and remembering to breath into Mother Earth when I need grounding. Poor Rene, who is not very comfortable with emotions, gets the brunt of my frustrated outbursts (not aimed at her, but at the universe in general.) She leaves for Europe in twenty days and we hope we can both survive till then.  She will be-as always- a wonderful support once I have had the surgery and am recovering.

Poor dear, she has nursed me through six surgeries, several of them life threatening, in the last eleven years! I've nursed her through five.   Hmmm, now that I think on it, we have had a staggering number of surgeries between us,especially since neither of us wanted to go into nursing as a career.

At our Ceremony of Commitment in '95, we had only had 6 surgeries, and got teased about promising "in sickness and in health" since health was already out the window! Laughter does help, doesn't it? As does commitment, or else we'd have killed each other under the stress of it all.   Still and all, I feel blessed these days. I have a good woman for a partner, a great place to live, a self-supporting daughter, health insurance and a sense of humor-these things will get me through.

  Blessings, Margo    

Tuesday, May 24, 2005

Moving Towards Change

I have a date for gastric bypass surgery: July 11,2005. It is hard to believe that after that my stomach will hold only a couple of ounces of food or water at a time, and my life will change as radically as it did after the fall at work on August 7, 2003. Perhaps more radically.  

As some of you may have noticed, I am not someone who rushes into change with wild optimism and enthusiasm. My most inner being whispers that change is bad, difficult, painful, dangerous, and I might-no probably will-die. Not from the surgery, you understand, but from the changes brought down upon my head by any big move forward on my part.  

In my head I know that I don't die from changes, even major big ones. My experience in the second half of my life is that I actually survive quite nicely. After a period of inner turmoil and strife, I come up with-or am given-images and insights which I use in some unknowable inner process to first cope and then grow. I don't know how or why this works for me, but it does, and I am blessed by the process.  

My heart, battered as it is by scars and bypasses, wants to keep on beating so I can continue to look for new ways to grow and change. I want  to live and express love by giving it back to the universe in new and different ways.  

 So I plan to move as serenely as possible into this surgery, accepting the risk and the profound changes it will bring. I will only look a few steps ahead (although I have done my research and know exactly what is ahead of me) lest I panic and freak and fall back into old patterns just when I need new patterns to blossom.  

 Blessings, Margo  

Wednesday, May 18, 2005

Too many appointments!

  Even though it is still chilly here in Southeastern CT, spring is slowly leaching over into summer, as the irises begin to bloom, and the trees leaf out more each day. I have lived in my little rundown red house for 26 years, and can measure time by the blooming of neighborhood gardens and the leafing of different trees. For this I am truly grateful, because I am concentrating on getting pleasure out of the little things at the moment. 

 

This month has been stressful, and I now realize that, counting physical and mental therapy, doctors' appointments and medical testing, I have 22 appointments this month. No wonder I spend my time in such a daze. Just getting out the door is a major obstacle, never mind the psychic energy needed to cope! I am a weak sister these days! (But also a VERY strong one, just to keep going)  

Plus I have gone down on the pain patch(I have used a 50 for 15 month, am now on a 25) so my pain level is way up. I want off the patch so I can feel less drugged, and for the upcoming surgeries. And I do not like my pain management doctor at all, but have not had the energy to begin the search for a new one yet.  

Twenty-two appointments may be a record for me, even after last month's hospitalization, especially since I am lugging an oxygen tank along with me full time. I have tried different sizes, and now settle for whichever one is nearest to the door as I struggle out the door.  

I have a date for pre-testing for the gastric bypass surgery: July 11th. That means I will have the surgery before August 11th, because the pre-testing is only good for 30 days. Now all I have to do is not gain ANY weight between now and then or the surgeon will make me lose 50 lbs before he will do it. I certainly understand the premise. If I am committing to change for the rest of my life, a few weeks in a holding pattern is not too much to ask, but it is very hard not to fall into the "just one more time" syndrome about all the food I love to eat.  

Yesterday I had an appointment with a workers' comp doctor, who said (of course) that the pin in my arm does not need to come out. My orthopedist says it might help the pain. I want it out, so my attorney will have to do his stuff. I would be enormously frustrated, except that I want the weight loss surgery done first, because it will make the 2nd surgery safer if I am smaller.  

Today I prep for tomorrow's colonoscopy, a must because of my mother's rectal cancer last year- this year's surgery was due to scar tissue and adhesions from the first two surgeries, but, Goddess bless her, she is hanging in. I so want her to see me lose weight.   

Blessings, Margo      

Saturday, May 14, 2005

And Life Goes On

  I want to be philosophical and humorous- surely it is time to write an entry that is light and funny, with just a bit of irony thrown in for good measure. Alas, life is not giving me that at the moment.  

 I am inundated by doctors appointments, tethered to oxygen, and sad because three good people I knew and cared about have died recently. The first was Dennis, the husband of MaryJo, who is Rene's best friend. He died while I was in CO, and Rene went to NJ for the funeral without me, so I came home to an empty house(except for the dogs). Dennis was a good and funny Irishman, and I  miss his e-mails daily.  

The second was Reece, the brother-in-law of a good friend, who died at 38, after a long illness. He did some building for us, and was funny, bright and loving. He left a young widow and step-son. The world is a poorer place for his passing.  

The third, Ginny, was an old friend from PLP-the place in PA my parents have a summer home. She lived there year round for many, many years, and we always fitted in a short visit every time I went there. She was diagnosed with cancer last year and had decided not to fight it. She was only 63 or so, and I remember crying when I got in the car last fall after a brief goodbye-for-the-winter visit, but I thought for sure I'd see her again this spring. 

On a brighter note, Rene and I went to a group informational meeting with the doctor at Yale-New Haven Hospital who will do my gastric bypass. It looks as if I will have the surgery mid-July, after Rene gets back from a WWII 60th Anniversary Tour she is taking in late June (lucky woman!).  

There were about 25 of us at the meeting, with nearly half of us supported by significant other or friend. Those of us who need the surgery range from merely fat to severely morbidly obese, and we fell into two groups: those of us who have over researched the subject and those who really had no clue. I fell into the former group, of course. (I am a researcher at heart.) Luckily, I liked the surgeon, his outlook, his attitude, and, most of all, his surgical statistics, which are very good, as I have nearly 200 pounds to lose.  

<FONTSIZE=4>This is not going to turn into a diet journal, I assure you, but weightloss surgery and the loss of the weight afterwards will no doubt echo through these pages as they reverberate through my life in the coming months. I will ask for support as the time approaches.  (don't know  why this is small while the rest is bigger)

Meanwhile, I have been going out most days, to doctors' appointments, physical therapy, Glenn, my personal trainer, and for walks, all hauling my oxygen tank along with me, trying to lap up the last bit of Spring before Summer arrives.

Blessings, Margo