1/2 Mile

In the movie 8 Mile a young rapper, struggling with every aspect of his life, wants to make the most of what could be his final opportunity but his problems around gives him doubts.

A lesser known movie you may not have heard about is 1/2 Mile. A middle-aged woman, struggling with her weight, wants to make the most of what could be her finally opportunity. She undergoes surgery, has a real rough time of it, then bounces back and walks the floors of the hospital. Enough trips to equal a 1/2 mile in one day.

Pretty amazing film premise, eh?

Just my life. Feeling so very much better, took multiple (albeit slow, albeit with a walker) walks and got discharged tonight. Camping out at our in place in Boise through Christmas. Thanks to future son-in-law who didn't complain when I asked him to take a detour on the way home from the hospital I got a second view - and my own picture - of the State Capitol Building. He driving on bumpy snow covered roads while I held my belly and my camera phone gave me a couple of blurry pictures.

But I don't care about the blur. I walked 1/2 a mile today.

Ick

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. 

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).

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.

Ditto

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.)

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.

Lost

Lost adjective \ˈlȯst\: not knowing where you are or how to get to where you want to go : unable to find your way

There is no other way to describe the last week of my life.

I had no blog to write.
I had no pictures to take.
I had no Thanksgiving dinner to make.
I had no charity projects in the works.
I had no schoolwork to do. 
Hubby spent most of the time watching football.
Kitty spent most of time outside.
Kiddo was mad and not talking to me.

Everything I had, every single thing that gave purpose to my life, was wiped out all at the same time. And being on the verge of losing the one crutch I've had all my life - food - made the downward spiral continue.

So I'm back and so is kitty. At least I think that's our cat curled up on our bed. That might be an ear up top?

For those loyal followers, welcome back. You'll probably hear from me again this week.