One person's bad experience

August 22, 2001

OMG.....I can't believe this happened to someone. I am so glad that

everything worked out well. I do think though that we should know who this

surgeon is or at least where he operates out of....I would hate to suggest

him to someone not knowing he has this history.....

Bobbi-jo

August 22, 2001

OMG.....I can't believe this happened to someone. I am so glad that

everything worked out well. I do think though that we should know who this

surgeon is or at least where he operates out of....I would hate to suggest

him to someone not knowing he has this history.....

Bobbi-jo

August 22, 2001

I received this message from a list member who asked that their identity

remain confidential. I think it's important for this person to be able

to share their story I in a way that feels safe, so I am forwarding it

as requested.

sorry so long

Hi...first and foremost, I'd like to thank all of you who post on this

board....the information and feedback I get from this has been priceless

and so necessary at times. I've been lurking for months and months

now...and I've finally decided to share my experience with you so that

those who are trying to find a doctor to perform the DS may be helped a

little.

For those of you who are having ANY kind of doubt at all about a

particular physician...read my story and understand that you HAVE to

follow your gut instinct....your intuitions are far more important most

times than we think.

Last year I began doing research on weight loss surgery, and actually by

accident stumbled upon a place within an hour of my home that did it.

After going there and meeting the administrator (I've since found out

she actually owns the business), I made plans to have the DS done. They

got the approval from my insurance for me..but because there had to be a

" date " picked before my insurance would approve me, a date was set for

the following month...it was happening quite quickly. I met the surgeon

briefly one day....other than that day, I didn't see him again until the

" interview " shortly before my surgery date. This letter is about that

interview...about that gut intuition I'm talking about.

While in the beginning this surgeon seemed like a nice enough man,

during our interview, I just started thinking that something just didn't

feel right. When I questioned him about my recovery period...he told me

that I would bounce back very nicely because I wasn't one of the " real

big ones " (my BMI was 42 at the time).....anyway, I sat there for the

remainder of the interview still feeling like something wasn't right,

but not able to pinpoint it. Finally, I stood up and put my jacket on

and it was then that I finally asked him how many of these he had done.

He looked down at his schedule and told me that by the time he got to me

the following month, I would be number 13. Well....I got this whoosh of

whatever that floated thru me and my heart started pounding and it must

have shown on my face....he looked at me kind of arrogantly and asked me

if I had a problem with that....I said yes, that I wished he'd had a few

hundred of these surgeries under his belt. Again, that feeling was

dismissed by him telling me that he'd assisted in " many " of these

procedures and that I had nothing to worry about...I wasn't " one of the

big ones " ....he said that to me 3 or 4 times during that interview.

Walking to my car afterwards I felt physically sick and in looking back,

I wish I would have just been strong enough to say thank you for your

time and searched for another doctor with much more experience. But I

didn't. I showed up for my surgery date as scheduled in March of last

year and thats where the nightmare begins. I will shorten this as much

as I can while hopefully still getting thru the obvious message.

After surgery and a 5 day hospital stay, I was released and came home.

My boyfriend picked me up at the hospital and brought me home. I had

stocked up on stuff I had learned from other DS patients that they

craved when they came home from

surgery....baby food, soup, tea, etc.....all the normal stuff. After I

came home, I sat down in a chair in my living room and attempted to

drink a little water...within minutes of drinking the water, I threw up

this VILE green stuff....it was horrendous....absolutely gross. That

time though, I made it to the bathroom. I fell asleep...upon waking my

boyfriend made some chicken broth for me to sip on...again, within

minutes it came back up....green. He then called the administrator to

tell her that something was wrong, we were told that some people have a

hard time keeping things down and to try and get a good nights sleep.

From here on in, things are kind of blurred. I tried to sleep, but I

kept throwing up this green stuff....I was scared to death.

My girlfriend came to see me and this time they tried to sit me up and

talk to me. I didn't know what day it was, who the president was, or

what anyone's name was who was in my house. Needless to say, they

rushed me into emergency. By this point, I was pretty incoherent....I

now know that when you throw up like that, you lose your potassium and

begin to lose your mind, which was happening to me. The surgeon met us

at the emergency room and had me admitted. I was admitted into

intensive care and was pretty out of it...unable to speak other than to

moan. The NG tube was put in my nose and into my stomach where it

remained pretty much for the next 3 weeks.

Test after test after test was run on me to try and figure out what was

wrong....I know I've NEVER felt fear like that before in my life. I

could tell by the look on my family and friend's faces that I must look

bad....I will NEVER forget seeing my Mom and Dad come into the intensive

care unit and both of them started crying...they looked shocked at

looking at me. But I couldn't reassure them because literally, the

thought process was in my head to speak, or to form a sentence, but for

the most part, I just couldn't do it. So I laid there with my eyes

bulging out of my head with this hideous green stuff being pumped out of

me via the NG tube into a big container attached to my bed.

At one point, I could tell that the same tests were being done over and

over on me...the same machinery was being brought into my room, or I was

being wheeled down for barium tests, and X-rays, etc....there was a

pattern forming and even in my state of mind I knew one fact....this

surgeon didn't have ANY idea what was wrong with me....day after day I

was told that he was waiting for the result of this test or that

test....I was crying all the time and begging him to figure out what was

wrong with me OR get someone who could. When no one else was in my room

and the surgeon walked in, he would actually look at me with disgust on

his face....and more than once he walked in when it was just me in

there...looked at the container filling up with the green stuff, shake

his head in disgust and walked out without saying a word to me.

One day, I could literally feel myself dying...and I'm NOT

exaggerating...that container next to my bed was filling up for what

seemed to be the 100th time with that vile green stuff and no one was

answering any questions when I could ask them. Just when I was feeling

my lowest, a rude nurse came in and told me it was time for my enema.

Now, keep in mind....I

had had NOTHING by mouth for weeks now...no water, no

soup...NOTHING...just an IV. There was nothing IN ME for an enema...and

thats when I lost it.

I knew if I didn't get out of there and find a doctor who knew what he

was doing, I was going to lay there and die...I could feel myself

slipping away. I pulled myself up by my IV pole, staggered out into the

hallway and demanded the 1st doctor that walked by to get the catheter

out of me because I was checking myself out. He tried to get me to calm

down but I was determined to get out of there...so he took the catheter

out and I put my coat on and wobbled down to the lobby and called my

boyfriend to come and pick me up. Naturally he was upset....he and the

rest of my family had been told over and over by both the surgeon and

the administrator that I was " noncompliant " and had disobeyed their

orders by coming home after surgery and drinking water with ice in

it...they actually had most everyone convinced that thats why I was in

the shape I was in....I was " noncompliant " . Now, in my head I KNEW I

hadn't done anything wrong....drinking water or tea or soup should NOT

have the effect on anyone....but I couldn't think straight enough to

ever voice that....I was on a mission by the time to just stay alive.

Anyway, Bill came and got me....we came home and looked up the number to

another doctor here who does the DS....he drove me to his office and

when I walked in, people actually gasped...I looked like a walking

corpse...people in that office were

kind enough to say to the receptionist to take me back before them

because it was obvious I was in need of help. To be honest, that doctor

did the best he could that day, but ultimately had to tell me to go home

and try and sleep because he was scheduled for surgery, but to come back

the next morning and he would get me admitted into his hospital and

check me out. Well, I never made it thru the night...the administrator

called to see how I was.....my Mom told her that I was rolling back and

forth on my bed...and was becoming incoherent. The administrator came

to my home to check on me but before coming upstairs where I was, she

stopped in my kitchen to tell my Mom, my boyfriend, and my then 13 year

old son that I had brought this all on myself by being

" noncompliant " ...at that point my Mom was getting really sick of that

term and told the administrator that something else was very, very wrong

with me.

Anyway, back into intensive care I went....and more tests. The NG tube

was back in place, and the nightmare begins again. A few days after

this hospital admission....and thank God a friend from work was there to

visit me....the surgeon and the administrator walked into my room....and

honest to God, I thought they were coming to tell me that there was

nothing more they could do for me and that I was going to die. The fear

in me when seeing them look so solemn again, is a feeling I will NEVER

forget. But they then informed me that they did not know what was wrong

with me (uh, that was apparent), that he was going out of town (he went

to Disneyworld we later found out) and that I had a choice to make. I

could either get another doctor on my own (remember, I'm hooked up to an

IV and have an NG tube in me and a catheter) OR I could be taken down to

Dr. Hess in Bowling Green, Ohio so that he could look at me.

Well, I began to cry....I knew I couldn't find a doctor on my own, and

because I was pretty sure I was dying....the thought

of dying somewhere other than my home state was very upsetting to me.

Fortunately, my friend was there who calmed me down and told me to go to

Bowling Green. I was then loaded into the administrators car and driven

by her to Bowling Green. The NG tube was disconnected but was still

hanging out of my nose...and I can never ever describe to you what a

surreal feeling that trip was....it was unbelievable.

Anyway, we get to Wood County, the administrator got me admitted and

then she left. I laid in that bed in Ohio and again felt fear that was

beyond anything I'd ever felt. Dr. Hess came in then and introduced

himself to me....I liked him right away. He took ONE LOOK at me and

said that he thought he knew what was wrong with me, but that he had to

do ONE TEST on me in the morning and probably take me back into surgery.

He hooked me up to the IV's himself and kept telling me he'd take

care of me. I was given a sedative to help me sleep.

The next morning I did the barium test....was done by 9 am and back in

surgery by 2pm. Coming out of that surgery I felt like I'd gotten hit

by a truck (1st surgery here at home was on 3-21....2nd surgery by Hess

was on 4-17) But I stayed at Wood County for a week....I was pretty

much out of it...I don't remember most of it....I don't remember Dr.

Hess telling me what he found....I just remember being like a limp

noodle and wondering if I was ever going to come out of this whole thing

alive.

Anyway, I came home a week after surgery, and outside of throwing up

once or twice when I first came home, I began to eat

some soup and drink some water and it stayed down. By June, I was

starting to move around a little better and feeling a little more human.

Depression had hit me big time though....I had never experienced it

before and couldn't understand it.

Dr. Hess became my hero and I never saw or heard from the 1st

surgeon...he never called to ask how I was...nothing. But I made the

trips down to Bowling Green (my Mom drove) for my follow up visits and

aftercare. I won't go into detail about how I happened to find my

medical records...but it wasn't because I requested them....a little

voice in my head kept telling me I SHOULD request them....but I didn't

have the brain power at that time to go thru the motions. But I did

find enough of my records one day to almost cause myself a heart

attack....I sat there and read the words over and over

again to make sure I was understanding them. In my records from Dr.

Hess...it said that when he operated on me in April he found an

" abnormal gastric hookup " .....I had no clue what that meant at the

time...but I've since found out.

The 1st surgeon literally put me back together wrong....thats why

nothing was going down and thats why I almost died. From

what I understand, the 1st surgeon tried to connect the wrong ends of my

intestines. He had a total of 12 of these surgeries behind him and yet

was so ARROGANT that he didn't call in any experienced surgeon to help

him figure out what was wrong with me. Hess took ONE LOOK at me and

knew what was wrong.....it is beyond belief.

Am I angry? Sometimes the anger consumes me...especially when I found

out that the administrator called Hess the 1st night I was

admitted....was told by Hess what he thought was wrong with me....and

had I not found my records, to this day would have let me continue to

think that I had somehow done this to myself. Not to mention my friends

and family.

As overweight people, we constantly feel as if we're failures, or not

able to do what comes so easy to alot of " normal " sized people....and

for this doctor and this administrator to try and convince myself and my

loved ones that I had done something wrong instead of his incompetence,

well you tell me if you'd be angry.

I'm very much an advocate for this procedure and have sent 2 people to

Dr. Hess (who by the way, is not only an awesome

dr, but just a sweet, sweet man too...he honestly is my hero)....but I

feel very strongly that I have to tell my story to try and get the

message across that no matter how " nice " the doctor seems....or how

" nice " his or her staff is.....the bottom line is experience and your

intuition....you do NOT have to tolerate rudeness or inexperience...if

you have to travel for DAYS to get a doctor you trust, then do

so....this is your LIFE and your quality of life we're talking

about....and you HAVE to be picky about who you trust your life with.

Another little sidenote....in November I developed a hernia....I would

only allow Hess to operate on it and fix it....while we were doing the

paperwork for the hernia surgery...Hess casually asked me why my stomach

had been left so large. I said HUH? He then explained that my stomach

(from the 1st surgery) had been left at about 16 ounces and when he did

the surgery, he took them down to about 4 ounces. I THOUGHT I'd been

able to eat more than I had thought I would, but it never occurred to me

that my stomach had been left too large.

So during my 3rd surgery in 8 months.....my hernia was repaired and my

stomach size was decreased to where it should have been in the 1st

place. Again, Dr. Hess is my hero and I'll be eternally thankful to him

for helping me when I was left in such a mess by the first surgeon.

I'm sorry this is so long...but I hope I get the message across to RUN,

not walk if ANYTHING or ANYONE just doesn't seem right when preparing

for this surgery. Laying there in intensive care night after night with

my eyes bugged open and not able to sleep....not to mention those

morphine-induced nightmares which I won't forget for the rest of my

life....I had plenty of time to think about the people I love and how

scared they were for me....the look on my son's face when he saw me in

intensive care...he looked shocked....and just how precious life is in

general. Now I think that the arrogance of one surgeon damn near took

that away from me. That surgeon has a fan club now...he's done most of

his other surgeries successfully I think....and those that had success

stories think the world of him. Congratulations to them and I hope they

continue to do well. But this " noncompliant " woman felt the need to

tell her story, and I'm glad I did. I'm in sales for a living...and

didn't cash a commission check for 8 months after that 1st

surgery....fortunately I was able to sell some stock and part of my

retirement to stay afloat....but had I not had anything to fall back on,

surely I would have lost almost everything I own. I've not added up the

bills from my insurance company....but can you imagine what the better

part

of a month in intensive care costs along with 3 surgeries?? They've

doubled my premium after attempting to cancel me altogether...it was

only after arming myself with my records and going down there and

pleading my case....explaining that it wasn't ME who was sickly...it was

a surgeon's incompetence that caused this huge hospital bill that they

agreed to insure me...but again, doubling my premium.

I'm 5'8 and weighed 276 last year, this year I weigh 146...it was a

long, long road in getting my energy level back

and fighting the depression was no picnic...but I feel pretty good now.

Again, the bottom line is to trust all of those feelings....the feelings

that make you think that this seems right, or wait..this doesn't seem

right....those feelings are there for a reason....learn to listen to

them and trust them. I wish I had. Sorry this is so long...but I typed

it like it entered my mind...if you took the time to read this, I hope

you found it somewhat interesting. Take care...

_________________________________________________________

August 22, 2001