I Had Surgery and a Breakup in One Month and I Didn't Even Get a T-ShirtOf course, I DID get a brand-new stomach, so I guess that's what matters, right? In retrospect, I wish I'd documented the process more, both in words and in photos, not necessarily to post the latter (nobody needs to see the BEFORE!), but just because already it seems like so long ago that I had the procedure. But it wasn't--it was a mere 6 weeks ago! And I'm a whole new person! (Not really.)
As best as I can remember, it was never absolutely HORRENDOUS. I was scared right before it, but on the actual day I was nothing but excited. I went in at 6:30 a.m., they did all kinds of intake stuff and, my personal favorite, confirmed approximately 2,000 times what I was getting (as the lawyer, formerly law student texted, can you imagine if they'd done the wrong thing? Leg amputations! Breast implants!), and walked me to the operating table. I really DID go out like a light, and the next thing I knew it was 3.5 hours later and I was being asked to cough. Which, let me say, wasn't the best feeling in the world.
The next few days were a hazy cloud of sleeping, watching DVDs, reading, and eating raspberry blondies. At the worst, it felt like I'd done a bajillion crunches--SORE stomach muscles, but not agonizing pain. My mood was all over the place, in part because I didn't know what to expect in terms of appearance (the first time I was unbandaged, three days later, I looked like a giant lumpy loaf of bread and I almost cried), in part because I (natch) didn't feel well, in part because Mr Deliriously Awesome (now ex-DA) was sick too so didn't come to be with me as soon as we'd thought he would.
Anyway, then the professor came for the second week to be with me. Even though he was bored out of his mind by the end, it was helpful to ME because he (gently) forced me to take more risks and stop babying myself quite to the same degree my parents had done. By the time he left, I went back to work, albeit for only a few hours a day at first, coming home afterwards to crash in exhaustion.
But gradually the moods all evened out, my strength started to come back, but then of course we broke up, which hurt like hell, but also now feels kind of hazy and in the past...to be flowerly and overly melodramatic, they hacked up my body--which I inexplicably CHOSE to have done to me--and while I was recovering from that, my heart was broken. (Seriously, I know that sounds ridiculous, but it's how it felt at the time.) So then I had to sort of take a step back and reassess again.
Now, physically and emotionally, I am okay. My first time exercising consisted of slow treadmill walking for 30 minutes, and now I'm up to faster treadmill walking (at huge inclines, no less!) for 70, and today I even JOGGED (slowly!) for a grand total of 1 minute 15 seconds. My stomach is less swelled (though apparently will go down even more!) and I can see it looks more like a regular person's. I don't have the dreaded muffin top anymore! I got the all-clear yesterday to start doing high-impact stuff again, so I'm ready for that.
As for ex-DA, what can I say. After all my ups and downs with boys since moving back, he's the first person I'd actually LOVED since Cincinnati Boy. I will never absolutely 100% understand why he messed it up, but I can't sit around pining for him. I'm trying to move on, and mostly succeeding. The experience actually, despite ending badly, was REALLY positive in a lot of ways. One, he pretty much embodied everything I'd wanted in a boy but never thought existed in one person, which gives me hope I can find that again. Two, *I* was healthy and non-clingy and crazy, even if he turned out to be kind of mentally in a bad place. So that is all I can do...know that I did the best I could and that even knowing what I know now...I would absolutely do it again. No regrets, right?
BTW, that holds true for my surgery as well. Just saying.
Labels: hiatus interrupted
