The Deed is Done

It has been done. As I laid there on the bed, IV in hand, waiting to go to the OR, I was quite petrified. All or nothing. Doctors and nurses kept coming in and asking questions. They kept commenting on how calm and collected I was. What are other people doing in there while they wait? I was just laying there, talking to my mom. Every time they commented on my calmness I had a vision of some fat lady laying there crying. It was a year long process to get onto that operating table, if you hadn't come to terms with the idea at that point, maybe it isn't the right choice for you.
I have no memory of the operation beyond getting into the operating room and being strapped down to the table. I woke up in recovery for a few seconds maybe. The next thing I knew I was in my room with horrible pains in my abdomen. Apparently they pump gas into your insides to perform this surgery. I spent the next 24 hours either trying to get rid of the gas or in a morphine induced slumber. Definitely painful. Worst part of the whole experience thus far. By Friday afternoon I was feeling much better. I swallowed some blue dye, no leaks in my new pouch, so I got to have 4 tablespoons of water per hour for about 5 hours. And sadly, that was even tough to get down. I've progressed since then to protein shakes and pudding/yogurt. Still can't get much down.