Day 18: "Pretty OK"

This is my third week living with my sleeve. Seems so weird to call it that, like it's not a stomach anymore. But it is. I'm having a hard time thinking of it as anything but my stomach, just smaller. I think it's the part of me that struggled with the idea of the surgery in the first place. The concept of getting rid of something God gave me, my parent's DNA provided me. I look at pictures of myself from the past and I think, "I was whole then." Don't get me wrong. I'm not here regretting or venting. No buyer's remorse. I came to terms before my surgery, knowing it's better to "sacrifice the few, to save the many." I'm such a logical thinker, it gets me in trouble sometimes. I'm a somewhat religious person, it helped when a fellow sleever at a support group told me about Matthew 5:30, "And if your right hand leads you to sin, cut it off and throw it away. It is better for you to lose a part of your body than to have all of it go into hell." THAT made sense to me. Go figure?

I think what I'm struggling with right now is how I let it get this bad. I spent my childhood eating fairly well. Granted my parents served us Spam, sugary Kool-Aid, McDonald's, and Pizza Hut from time to time. It was the 80's and they worked hard. But I didn't gorge on them, and was never overweight. Then in my 20's I was so focused on being attractive to the opposite sex, looking for a mate, I policed myself and stayed in shape. Next thing you know, it's 2005 and I'm gaining and gaining and gaining. That was a tough year for me. I'd been hit by a car while doing my favorite sport, cycling. The injuries are still with me today and the psychological trauma still haunts me. My parents separated, my uncle passed away tragically sending my grandmother into early dementia. But great things happened as well. I graduted college a year earlier and had moved across the country to start my life with my (now) husband. Granted, we were in tons of debt and not the best of housing situations. It was just all too much change for a single year. I let my guard down and it just spiraled out of control. Then I fell into a series of dreadful jobs while pulling us out of debt. Then a few more accidents and -- BOOM. There I am with ailment after ailment, scrambling to doctors to fix it, while ignoring the fact that I weighed 265lbs. In less than two years I had DOUBLED in size. DOUBLED!!

I'm shocked as hell that I didn't see it. It was like I had blinders on. When I looked in the mirror, I looked the same. It was me. When I got dressed, I looked down and my body seemed strangely unchanged. But then things happened. The first time I was out with a friend, window shopping and I realize none of the stores have my size. Sitting at a restaurant and having a little child ask me if I was pregnant because of my belly. Hearing a complete stranger call me a "fat a**" while walking down a sidewalk. Struggling to buckle my belt on a plane. Then the sickness. Always getting sick. Migraines. Horrible PMS. Emergency rooms. Being told I am most likely infertile...

It was too much to bear. The guilt nearly killed me. Knowing my husband had vowed to love me forever, and I was ruining his chances to have children. Much less, having to live with a fat, depressed woman who's self-esteem was just non-existent. Disappointing my family, shortening my life... then losing two jobs due to my weight. One because I was so sick all the time, I became unreliable. They let me go out of pity, and in a way because they didn't want to see me get worse. The second because of this jerk who thought I was "bad for business."

So yeah. I'm happy I did it. I know it's early, and I'm sure this roller coaster will take me many more dips that make me sick-to-my-sleeve. But I know there will also be lots of high moments when I can see the beautiful horizon and anticipate the excitement of the hurdling "drops" -- in weight! And in the end, I will most likely be a little wobbly-knee'd and woozy. But just like when I was a kid, I'll march off to my loved ones and tell them, "It was the best ride of my life! I want to do it again!"