That's right, it leaps small staples in a single bound! It dances away from the surgeon's blade! It laughs in the face of an upper GI! It spews whatever nutritional entity is introduced to it! It is...Pouchie the Pain-in-the-a**!
That's right, my surgery was not the smoothest. Apparently my liver is the size of a football and I have a hernia in my belly button that needed repair (I had thought I was getting so fat that my belly button was caving under pressure). So the surgery itself was difficult. Then, when I woke up, I couldn't feel my feet. I couldn't stand, walk, stroll, wiggle my toes...nothing. Finally, the new stomach pouch (which I have christened "Pouchie") was taken in to the upper GI test, where he would not surrender the bariatric dye. That's right a blockage.
To keep it from getting too graphic (as my friend D. will lose her cookies), I was in the hospital for 8 days instead of 2.5. Yikes.
But I can tell you that I can already stand, and walk, and bend at the waist (a little, anyway). I do have to have supplemental oxygen, but they think that as my body loses fat that my lungs will get the extra room and I will be fine.
Let's see how the weekend goes...