Friday, December 20, 2013


Between ICU, dry heaves, and throwing up everything I drink it has been a bit icky. But I'm hanging in. And hubby tells me I have a nice view out my window. 

Monday, December 16, 2013

The Other Side

My surgery is this week. Not a gastric bypass, but a gastric sleeve. With a bypass they reroute your digestive system; with a sleeve they cut out most of your stomach. 85% of the stomach, in fact.

There's so much I've been thinking and so much I could write, but I'm keeping it brief.

Wish me luck, enjoy my picture of Sunday night's sunset, and see you on the other side (in a good way).

Thursday, December 12, 2013

Not so Perfect

I had mentioned at work the other day that I was trying so hard to be perfect but it just wasn't working out. While I was only talking about an overlooked e-mail, I should have kept that thought in my mind while I was out to dinner.

Knowing that very soon many foods will no longer be available to me, I've been having some last meals. We had hamburgers the other day. I'm okay letting those go. Chinese food? I can pass. But steak? That one will be hard.

So after hubby's doctor appointment we went out for steak. It was going to be perfect. A perfectly cooked medium steak, seared on the outside and pink on the inside. When we ordered at the counter and one of hubby's former students, now the manager, paid for our meal (a manager has comping abilities, I guess) I really knew it was going to be perfect.

Well, no. For the steak came to me well done. I wouldn't ever care too much, except this was my last steak. Maybe forever. So for the first time ever I sent a steak back. And the new one they brought out? Pretty dang rare. And pretty dang far from what I expected from a perfect steak.

But maybe it worked out fine. Having that as my last steak in my mind might make me not miss steak as much as I thought I might.

But what is perfect? That the military base in Alaska sent me more pictures to make into a quilt. So yay for charity projects like the newly finished Spiderman quilt. Much more important to me than any darn steak.

Monday, December 9, 2013


Last year on December 15 I wrote that we didn't go out much after dark, especially at this time of year. It was hard for me to see when driving and it was so doggone cold. (Ditto for this year.)

Last year on December 15 we just so happened to be in Caldwell as the sun was setting. (Ditto for today.)

Instead of rushing home before it became pitch dark we decided to go out to Chinese food for dinner. (Ditto for tonight.)

Yet last year it wasn't the Chinese food that became the picture. (Ditto.)

It was what we saw when we came out of the restaurant. (Ditto.)

Last year we could see Christmas lights from the restaurant. (Ditto.)

Last year we took a post-dinner walk and went to see the creek-side park decked out in every possible color of Christmas light. (Ditto-ish.)

Well, if I could walk this year we would have taken the jaunt. But if we walked I would have been out of breath. So then Scooter would have been the preferred method of transportation to the park. Except with the streets and sidewalks covered in snow and ice, Scooter couldn't go. So it was a little drive in the car, one step out of the car to snap a picture of the decorations in the snowy, icy, single digit temperatures, then back into the warm car.

Pretty? (Ditto.)

Thursday, December 5, 2013

Cleaning my Plate

I had to go to a class this week. Kiddo loves her mom again so she came along. Looking around at the chubby folks in the room it was obvious she wasn't a member of the group but I was sure thankful for her support.

The class was a pre-op class for those about to have weight loss surgery. The class focused on the food, the exercise, and even the emotions involved with this type of surgery. With my surgery date just around the corner - December 18 - I had a lot of ah-ha moments. The biggies:
  • The days of cleaning your plate are over.
  • Short term, the immediate sense of loss of food is often a cause for distress. Even with its problems and tensions, obesity was comfortable, simply because it was known. Now, that life is gone.
  • Many of your friends will be positive and genuinely delighted for you. They will stick with you through the highs and lows and relate to you as the lovable, unique person they have grown to appreciate. Others won't.
  • It's all about you now, not about taking care of others. (My daughter shook a you better listen mom finger at me on this one.)

I thought kiddo was cute waving her finger at me, but when we got back to her apartment I got a picture of something cuter. I just love those blue eyes.