As some of you may already know, in April, Steve made the decision to go to Mexico to have the sleeve surgery done, as he has battled eating disorders of one kind or another for much of his life. After seeing several of our friends and acquaintances get the sleeve and how thrilled they have been with the results, we both felt impressed that this would be a decision that would benefit Steve's health, both mentally and physically, and that it could be a powerful tool to aid him in a war that he has been fighting with his own body ever since he could remember.
Because there is obviously some inherent risk in traveling to Mexico in order to have a surgery done, Steve asked me to come with him, while my incredible parents/siblings watched our children (yet again). We drove down to Phoenix on Thursday night, where we caught a flight to San Diego, after which our driver (Paolo, who was just wonderful) picked us up and drove us to a very nice hotel.
Once we got there, we met the nurse who was taking care of us, Nathan, who informed us that a cardiologist would be coming to each of our rooms in order to take an EKG of their hearts in order to be sure that they could withstand anesthesia. I'll admit that having an unknown Mexican man come into our hotel room in the middle of the night (there were two other people in our group, and by the time he got to us, it was about 1:30 AM) felt quite strange and a little unnerving, but he said that Steve's test went perfectly, which was good to hear.
We were then asked to be in the hotel lobby at 6:00 the next morning in order to get to the clinic for the actual surgeries. Paolo once again picked us up, and we drove to the clinic, which was clean, if a little dated.
Nathan gave Steve an IV, and we both proceeded to try not to freak out about this HUGE decision while we watched YouTube videos for the next several hours.
Because Steve was the last in the group to get his surgery done, it was 12:43 before he went in (yes, I was keeping track quite specifically).
And ooooh, I prayed. SO hard.
During that time, I was grateful to have my blog to focus on. I still hadn't finished my travel blog from when we went to Europe, so I used the time to distract myself and focus on downloading pictures, writing anecdotes, and mentally transporting myself back to Europe.
An hour later, they wheeled him in, and I got the unique experience of watching my husband come out of anesthesia. It took him until around 4:00 or so to finally become completely lucid, but he was one Chatty Cathy, and I'll tell you what--it's a good thing I already knew all of his secrets before he went into surgery, because I for sure would have known them now! It was an interesting experience to get a glimpse into what goes on in Steve's mind when there are no filters holding anything back, and it was pretty flattering how much of that was talking about how much he loves me.
I promised him I wouldn't video tape him (he was terrified beforehand of what he might say, so made me promise not to YouTube him), and I won't share much of what was said in those two hours, but at one point, he was panicking and his oxygen started falling a little bit below 90. I said, "Steve, can you breathe for me?" in order to try to bring his oxygen back up.
He looked at me, tears filling his eyes, and said, "I can breathe for you. I can do that much for you, at least. I would do anything for you."
At another point, when he was starting to panic again, I said, "Steve, look at me. Look at my eyes!"
He focused his eyes on me with great difficulty, and said, "I've always loved your beautiful eyes. They're one of my favorite parts about you. I just love your eyes and how beautiful they are!" He then proceeded to tell me for the next ten minutes about just how beautiful he found my eyes. It's nice to know that in his heart of hearts, he really does love me as much as he says he does when he's sober!
That night was filled with shuffling around the clinic and visiting with the two other ladies in our group, and the next morning, we were up and ready to go to the hotel around noon. This morning, our driver had a friend, Javier, with him, who is the new PR person for the clinic we went to. We asked them if they could take us to the temple that was recently built there in Tijuana, and I'm so glad we did--it was absolutely lovely.
Steve was walking around surprisingly well, by that point, so I had our friend snap our picture.
I absolutely loved how the temple married the Spanish mission design to the beauty we are used to in our LDS temples.
Mexican artwork, architecture, and culture always make me think of my Grandma and Grandpa Beecroft; they served two missions (one in Mexico City), and my Grandpa Beecroft grew up in Colonia Juarez and moved to the United States--a redhead with a thick Spanish accent--when he was in his teens. They always decorated their home with beautiful Mexican artwork and themes, and so I felt quite close to them as we walked around this very special temple.
They would have absolutely loved it.
It was a lovely day down in Tijuana, and this trip definitely made me want to come back and visit someday for a non-medical reason!
Javier and Paolo were very respectful as we walked around the grounds, probably more so than I was; at one point we passed a luscious looking green lawn that was just too tempting for me to pass up, so I kicked off my flip-flops and did a very amateurish cartwheel. It was just such a joyful feeling place.
At one point, Paolo asked some really insightful questions about the temple--while we knew Nathan is LDS, neither Paolo nor Javier knew much about our church, and so the three of us gringos there all had a couple of sweet little moments where we were able to explain certain of our beliefs to them, as well as bearing our testimony of how we made the decision to become "Mormon," as they called it.
Javier and Paolo--aren't they such nice-looking guys?
We then went back to the hotel, where they recommended us to a pharmacy where we could get vitamin B shots. We walked to the pharmacy and then back to the hotel, stopping at a few different store fronts along the way.
Steve found this giant geode that he just knew Jack would be fascinated by.
This part of the trip was actually my ideal vacation--some relaxed sight-seeing, followed by lots of resting and (for me only) eating--Steve persuaded me to buy my very first street taco, and since I'm not pregnant yet, I happily acquiesced.
It was delicious.
That night, I ate dinner at the hotel (a five-star meal at a five-star hotel that ended up costing me only $8. I'm DEFINITELY coming back here!), and then we went back to our beautiful room to lie in bed and watch Netflix until it was time for bed.
You know you're a mom when the opportunity to watch Netflix in bed for hours sounds like a vacation.
The next morning, we were up bright and early to head into an X-Ray clinic to get X-rays of the newly shrunken stomachs, after which we went back to the main clinic in order for Nathan to go over each X-ray with the patients.
One of the ladies wasn't doing well; she was dizzy, which made her quite nauseated, and she kept retching everything she tried to take in. Going back to the clinic was especially good for her, as she was very weak, and we were quite worried about her.
Nathan had her lie down for a bit, and after Steve and he gave her a blessing, she started doing a little bit better, which we were all grateful for--I was starting to get quite concerned about how she was going to travel!
We then got back in the van with Javier and Paolo, and they took us across the border. Because it was a holiday weekend in Mexico, the lines at the border were going to take us about three hours to cross through (which would have meant missing our flights), but thanks to some very efficient preparation on their part, we were able to walk across the border while Paolo drove the empty van across--about a 30-minute process, total.
I was impressed with how much work they'd gone through to make sure every aspect of this trip was as smooth as possible for us, and was genuinely sad when they dropped us off at the airport--these are a couple of guys who are going places, that's for sure.
We got two wheelchairs once we got to the airport (Sandy, our guide for this entire trip, had strongly suggested that we do so, as wheelchair users are first to board and first to exit the airplane, which is quite valuable when you've just had surgery).
Steve and I laughed at his boarding pass:
Steve said that he felt silly being in the wheel chair when he felt as though he could have walked, but it was nice that things were much more simple for me, and for the other lady in our group, the wheelchair was absolutely necessary. Being in the front of the flight was also a nice change for me; every other flight we've ever been on, we've been way in the back, which is where the turbulence is the worst, also a no-no when someone's just had surgery.
The flight back to Phoenix was nice, smooth, and short; I got into a conversation with the girl next to me and found out that she rivals even Steve in her love for pugs, and before we knew it, we had landed!
We had a nice drive home with only a stop in Payson to grab something to eat (hummus and carrots for me, Jell-o for Steve), and since then, our time has been filled with healing (Steve) and wrestling kids (me).
I'm glad he/we made this decision, but boy am I glad that it's over!
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