Okay - today was to be an enormously busy day on purpose to avoid the fussing, fretting and wonton anxiety that I knew would occur if left to my own devices.
The only problem is the degree of emotional and physical exhaustion I feel, so that when today arrived, all I really wanted to do was, well, nothing!
Instead, we start the day with a church rummage sale — where I buy, amongst other crap, a silver bell to ding-a-ling for Tom post surgery. Ha, ha!
Then, it’s off to facial excavation — as I’d left 2 days of stubble in preparation for this. As a dark haired woman with PCOS and Adrenal Hyperplasia and of Mediterranean descent, 2 days = Sadam Hussein for me, and any longer and I’d have to quit my job for shame about it. I was therefore shocked when Mrs. Exfoliation said she could only do my (bushy bushy) brows because my chin, mustache and side burn hair weren’t long enough! And I’ve already walked around like this (now heedlessly) for 2 days, for this!? She told me I’d have to go at least 7 (so I could look like my bearded husband?!) before there was enough to wax — ripped my eyebrows off, and sent me on my way.
Drat! Now I had to run home to frantically tweeze, shave and otherwise dehair my face before our afternoon plans, much to my husbands chagrin. I often wonder how he feels being married not just to a fat lady, but a hairy, crazy fat lady!!
Then, off we went to the Orthodox Christian Church in Lewiston that my grandfather used to be the priest of many years ago. My cousin Kenny and his wife Ann had invited us, and we’d invited friends to, this auction; bazaar; dinner event as a fundraiser for the parish.
We all enjoyed a lovely (albeit expensive) evening; caught up, laughed and otherwise kept my mind off my any minute now surgery.
Until Ann pointed out a very slender woman working the ticket table in the distance, stating that “she had the surgery last year.” Wow!
Long story short we all met up after the formalities subsided, and talked until they began turning lights out on us. She showed us (Tom; Barb and her daughter who also struggles with her weight) a picture of her 270 pounds (before); and had no shame pirouetting and raising up her shirt to show us after - including her now nearly disappeared scar and leftover ripples of flab she plans to have removed. She exuded excitement that my doctor was hers; spoke highly of his competence and manner; thought poorly of at least some of his support staff; but overall is pleased. How could she not be!
She referred often to having “made peace with food” - and although she said, I’m still not quite sure what this really means. Clearly, I have not.
Also disconcerting to me was the extreme pain she had for a few days post-operative (although she was quick to explain that she also had to have her infected stony, gallbladder out at the same time); and the barfing up of “solid” food she did that kept her on liquids for longer than the usual few weeks.
After intently listening and sharing questions with my friends and husband, I felt most insecure that I wouldn’t get it all right - especially the protein and fluid requirements and as she warned, I’d end up shriveled, bald and dead from malnutrition and stupidity.
It all seems so complicated! Exhausting yet intriguing. Worrisome yet exciting. I’m ready, but I’m not. Period.
April 25th, 2009 | 
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