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What my husband says about me & my sleeve
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Hi guys. I asked my husband to write something for my blog. Like a "WLS from a spouse's point of view" sort of thing. I will preface this by saying, my husband is my rock and I love him to pieces (sure, some days I want to push him off a cliff, but...).
This is what he sent me - I wanted to share with this audience because we all have loved ones that drive us crazy at times. I think sometimes we open up in a different way when we put pen to paper as opposed to speaking to one another. What would your spouse or significant other write if you asked them to? I was surprised by what I read here...
The wife recently asked me to write a little something for her blog. Not much on writing more than witty quips in response to my friends Facebook posts, my first response was a “oh sure” and then to politely ignore the request. It’s a tactic that works I’d say 75% of the time. I was hoping that she would be so excited (or distraught) about weight loss/lack of weight loss/not pooping/pooping/someone else pooping or not pooping, she’d forget that she asked. So a week passed and then I get a, “So I’d really like you to write a post for my blog. You know, from the spouses point of view.” I thought I was home free with her focus on the stall. Guess not.
My wife's weight has never really been an issue for me. We met over the phone and had a 3000-mile long distance relationship before the Internet and unlimited phone service. We worked in the same industry and developed a relationship over months of hours-long, bank-account-crushing phone calls. We have always said that if we had come across each other in a bar or other typical meeting place, we wouldn’t have been each other’s type, physically. Since we fell in love before we ever met, we got what we got. Which by the way, I was pretty happy with upon our first meeting. So when she informed me of her thoughts on surgery I tried hard to keep the slack jawed WTF look off my face as much as I could. I initially thought, “Your going to cut out most of your stomach just to lose a few pounds. What?” What I didn’t realize is that it wasn’t a few pounds. Much like your surprise when someone comments on how much your child has grown because they only see him once a year, I hadn’t noticed she had gained a hundred pounds since we first met. She had always just been my wife, my best friend, the person I would spend a long wonderful life with. My attachment to her has always been so much more than physical, and when I look at her I still see that 25-year-old girl I fell in love with. So when she told me how much she weighed I thought, “Holy shit, when did that happen.”
My blessing of the surgery wasn’t without hesitation. I know what obesity does to a body over time and have witnessed it first hand in my father and mother-in-law. The breaking down of joints, the insulin injections, heart issues and on and on…I know, preaching to the choir. But what if something happens during surgery and I lose the love of my life? What if our boy loses his mother? The mere thoughts made my heart hurt. How would I ever cope if something tragic actually happened? But you can’t live life on the basis that something bad MIGHT happen. Its what kept my mother from fully experiencing life and I always hated that. I wanted to have the healthiest wife possible as we get older. I wanted her to be comfortable in her skin. I wanted her to wear clothes she likes, not just the ones that hide the most. I wanted her to not feel awkward around others. I’ve never really struggled with weight. Sure I could lose more than a few pounds, but it falls off with little effort. I don’t fully understand the angst that the weight causes my wife but I know she isn’t as happy as she could be because of it. Life isn’t a dress rehearsal. You gotta make the most of it. So I agreed, reluctantly.
After coming to grips with the minimal risk involved and nervously waiting for good news from the operating room, it’s been a pretty easy journey for me. I’ve had to do very little except listen. Listen about the surgery, shakes, stalls, pooping, not pooping and then pooping again. My wife is hard-core about obtaining information off the internet. So much so, she once gave her GP a tutorial on thyroid testing and the latest acceptable ranges for each test, which came as news to her doctor. Still not sure why we had to pay for that office visit. So nothing came as a surprise. It made my life easier knowing that if anything came up post op that might freak me out, she had the stats on how many patients experienced the same thing, why it happened, how long it will likely last, and what the next day, week, month has in store. Easy for me, but I know it hasn’t been easy for her and that each day brings a new challenge. I am so grateful for what she is willing to put herself through for a healthier future with our son and me. Recently she’s been in the dreaded stall, but it’s subsided, and she has a little pep in her step. I love the gleam in her eye when the scale tells her what she wants to hear. I love how she gleefully shows off how crappy her clothes fit. Mostly I love that each day she seems to feel more comfortable in her skin and happier with herself. What more can you really ask for?