I’ve done a round with doctors while I’m off and been declared mostly normal. I have to go for a test to confirm my remaining kidney isn’t in any danger, but that seems like a smart thing to do so I don’t mind.   I have one more oncology appointment in 6 months and then I’m finished with that.  I can’t believe that journey is almost over. It changed my life, my perspective, and just as I have learned to live with it, I’ll learn to readjust my thinking from being “cancer patient” to being “cancer survivor”. It is one of the things that has come up in therapy, and my therapist is continuing to give me feedback that I can work with. Some of it is pretty hard to digest, but I’m working on it.

Minime has been in town all week too.  We have had a lot of fun.  We spent a beautiful day at the zoo. It was very uncrowded, and aside from the humidity, really couldn’t have been better.    After the zoo, we went to Happy Hour at Bahama Breeze and had a few drinks and some half priced appetizers for dinner.  We both paid for all of that the next day. Between the sun, the humidity, the drinks, and the greasy food, I spent most of the day trying to not think about how bad I felt. It was worth it   What a great day.

She and I are so much alike it’s scary sometimes.  We were in the penguin house at the zoo and both of us were disappointed that more of them weren’t out, and at the same time we both looked and said “there’s a lot of them in the hidey holes”. Then we both looked at each other and smiled.

Wednesday we went to a store where they sell fresh spices in bulk. Walking into that place is wonderful when all of the spice scent hits you, and so many things to learn and try.  It’s as sensual as you can get without sex

Thursday we saw my 92 year old aunt. It was nice seeing her. She’s really got so many stories to tell from all of her years of life. She’s also very human about her age. The last of her friends from her younger years died recently, she’s outlived everyone that she knew. That makes her a little sad, but she works at making new, younger friends. Younger being 70′s and 80′s.  She’s always been very healthy, and she’s a little frustrated about little things starting to go wrong, but she’s still got a good attitude, and she just takes it one day at a time.

Also this week, I’ve ordered some new appliances for the kitchen. It’s going to be a tight month, but I’ll have an oven that works and a new dishwasher.   I don’t mind doing dishes too much, but there are times when it’s a chore, and my dishpan hands will be thankful for the relief too.  After not having a working dishwasher for 9 months or so, it will be nice to have one again. Especially with the holidays coming.

My Big Brother’s birthday was the day after mine. That was a little hard. He and I were born 6 years and 364 days apart.  He died six months ago. All of my early birthdays were shared with him. As he got older we had separate parties, but for the most part, the good years of our lives were spent celebrating our birthdays together.  There’s no one left that really understands what he and I were to each other.  This was our first birthday that I spent without knowing he’s out there thinking of me as much as I was of him. I’ve lost all but one of my immediately family and I know what kind of empty feelings come on holidays or other anniversary dates, but this was different. I wouldn’t be able to tell you if it’s because losing him was the most recent, or because we were so close as young ones, or because we both survived the hell that we did and made some kind of peace with it and each other, but damn there’s this big empty hole in me where he should be.  My mother died 19 years ago today too. I miss her but not like I miss my brother.  Maybe it’s just a matter of time, who knows. Right now though words don’t really help.  It’s just a day to get through. Life goes on, so do I. But I’ll pause and remember, and do a little bit of wishing that I know will never come true.

I have 4 more days of vacation. Today is mostly for re-grouping, getting a few things done at home, and tending to the cat. She has cancer and gave me a good scare last weekend. Turns out it was a hairball, and I haven’t groomed her in 2+ months, so she’s in the process of getting a haircut.  Minime is running a race Sunday and I’ll go watch that. Also BFF needs to get out, so I’ll kidnap her to the arboretum and we’ll have a few laughs. The week is winding down though.  It’s been a weird mix of awesome and drudgery. I’ll remember the awesome though   I’m glad Minime came in for the week. I needed that.

I am 45 now.  My aunt is 92, I’m halfway there, right?    Roomie has done a bunch of research, and it wouldn’t hurt either of us to change our ways to be a little healthier, so in the next few days/weeks we’ll be shifting to a vegan way of life.  It can’t hurt right?  It seems like a better journey for the next few years than the one that started when I was 40 and diagnosed with cancer a few months later.  We’ll see how it goes.

Namaste.

Snow is pretty, I like watching it fall. I don’t mind snowblowing, I don’t get cold easily, so being out there for an hour getting good exercise, and clearing the driveway, is enjoyable.  Roomie keeps the steps clear, because he knows how tender my back is, and I appreciate that. If I had to shovel, I’d feel completely differently about snow, but he does his part and I do mine and we make a good team keeping things clear and safe. He made chili for dinner too. I don’t know if it was being out in the cold, but that was especially tasty tonight.

I had a bit of a victory at work today. I’ve been agonizing over how to do something. It involves 2 different inventory systems, and reconciling hundreds of things that have been shipped multiple times. It’s a lot of data and I struggled for days about how to get past being overwhelmed by the task and just thinking my way through it.  This morning, I took one chunk and just brut forced my way through several different attempts.  Two hours before the meeting with the VP’s I stumbled on the best answer, and then did enough analysis to find about $10k worth of missing equipment.  The cool part is that they’re getting me a temp to do the time consuming stuff, while I keep doing what I need to do to keep things going with sales.  The pressure’s off, the problem is under control, and with a little work it will be much better.

Oh and another victory: I saw my oncologist today. After 2 years of check ups every 3 months, I’m clean, and statistically the recurrence rate drops to less than 2% at the 2 year mark, so I now only have to go face the stirrups every 6 months.  That’s 50% less stirrups in my life.  WOOOHOOO!  Take that cancer!  3 more years and I WIN. I’ll be declared cancer free, and I can go back to being a regular girl and just getting checked once a year.

So on to lesson number two:  Stuff is just stuff.

I was diagnosed with cancer a full month before my surgery. I had a lot of time to think in that month, and I needed to be really careful not to get sucked into a doom and gloom mindset. In an attempt to not think about the cancer that was growing in me, I spent a lot of time at work, or helping Roomie redecorate my bedroom and office, or “putting my affairs in order”.  As the surgery got closer I got somewhat responsible and did a lot of work toward that last one.

The more time and energy I put into writing my will and trust, the angrier I got. I struggled with a lot of it for a week or more. I wanted to get it done because my mother had done it long before she needed to and because of her efforts the state got nothing from her estate.  I at least wanted to do that. I’d already lost a lot to my divorce, I didn’t want to lose half of what was left to the state. But under all that rational thinking, this anger brewed. It hit me the day I finished my paperwork.

Who the fuck cares about my stuff?  Why did *I* even care as much as I did. It’s just stuff.   There I was, facing my own mortality, judging what was valuable in my life, trying to divvy up stuff between the people that I love, and it kept coming back to the same thing.  I wanted to make sure that my daughter and Roomie were both taken care of, and that they understood my intent, and that is all written into the paperwork. That was finished, and rethought, and redone a couple of times before I was satisfied with it.  The rest of the things that I was supposed to think about, who gets the things of my life, I couldn’t even begin to think about that.  Aside from a few valuables, some family treasures, and an antique or two, the rest of what I own can be classified as useless crap.

It was in that A Ha  moment that I realized just how little I cared who got 90% of the stuff that I own. They who would be left behind to deal with it could have a big bon fire for all that I cared at that moment. The most cherished part of my life is not the things that I own, it’s much more intangible. The most valued things in my life are not things. They are the people that I love, and that love me.

It was in that moment when I let go of my relationship to most of the things in my life.

I’ve written about my mother before. She had an emotional attachment to owning a lot of stuff. It didn’t matter what the stuff was, but she found security in being surrounded by it. I grew up with that. It was what I knew. I am supposed to keep things. That was what I was taught.  That afternoon, literally the day before my surgery, my emotional attachment to mostly crap changed.  Things in my life suddenly had a different place.

I have the essentials. My clothes, basic furniture, a fully stocked kitchen, a livable house, a car that runs. I’m very blessed that I have a comfortable life.  I try to live with thankfulness in my heart for that, because I know too many people that are struggling with unemployment and this economy and keeping a roof over their heads and a meal on the table.

I also have so many things that I no longer need, no longer cling to, and those things are slowly, too slowly, being properly disposed of. There is a term that I learned from playing D&D and other RPG’s  all those years ago. “Encumbrance”. There is a score for how much the things you bear hold you back. I was fully encumbered with rooms full of crap. Chaotic piles of stuff that I really had no feeling toward other than I needed to keep it because that’s what I was taught. The thing that I realized that day is that I don’t need to carry this load anymore. Since then, I am well into the process of shedding it.  There are entire rooms in my house that are virtually empty of any of that stuff. The peace, the sanctuary of that space that is empty of everything that doesn’t belong, is life changing.

In the process of getting rid of my crap, I am trying to be conscious of the planet and of people. Electronics that aren’t useful anymore are properly scrapped and things like that. I have a lot more stuff to go through and give away. Shelves full of books, games, craft supplies; drawers that are not currently useful because they are filled with things that I haven’t looked at, used, or worn, in years. It’s a huge process. When I first started, it was overwhelming. Now that I’m seeing progress, and it feels more right every time I get rid of another pile of stuff, to have a little less mess, a little more space, it gets easier.  I don’t worry about finishing huge cleaning projects, I just take small bites at a time. I tackle realistic projects. A drawer here, a box there.  It all adds up. Eventually there will be another unencumbered room, and as long as I don’t stop, eventually I will get through all of it. The best part is that I have so much fun giving things that I no longer need to people that can use them. A lot of what I’m getting rid of is still useful, just not to me. I don’t just toss most things, I work to give them new homes.  That is just as rewarding as reclaiming the space that they previously lived in.

The goal is simple. To be happy with what I have, to simplify my life to the point where I have useful things with a few extra niceties that bring me joy, and no real need for anything more.

Finally, I have to say, that I don’t know that I would have gotten to the realization about my stuff without having faced my mortality, so in a weird way I’m thankful for this huge lesson that cancer allowed me to learn.

There is a third lesson that I got from cancer, but it deals with the people in my life. If I can figure out how to write it without violating anyone’s privacy, and still somehow have it keep the meaning that it has for me, I will publish it soon.

Namaste

1. Never ever undervalue the people in your life or the love that they bring.They are not there just by mistake. Everyone in your life is there for a reason.

I have many friends, but the “inner circle” of friends in my life really came to bat for me. None of them heard the word cancer and ran away scared.

They are all my soul mates and I want to call out a few them here:

My best friend Pat dropped everything in her very busy life, and got here the night before I went into surgery. She stayed an extra day, ultimately, consciously, choosing family (me) over her job, and eventually moving her family back here from Tennessee because she didn’t want another important thing, good or bad, to go on in either of our lives where the other person couldn’t share in it.  When I think about how much we’ve been to each other in our lives, it’s overwhelming.  We grew up together. We’ve been friends for 28 years, through kids, marriages, divorces, and a lot of other real life events.  There was a time that we spent so much time together that we could finish each other’s sentences.  We’ve said many times that if one of us were a guy, we’d have been married, divorced, and married again by now.  We are the definition of soul mates. There is no one in my life who knows me better, isn’t afraid to have hard conversations with me, and who shares with me as I do with her, each and every joy, frustration, and everything in between in our lives.  She reads my blog too, so for the record, because you know I’m not good at saying it publically, I love you Pat. Thank you for being there for me that very surreal week.  No words can express how greatful I am to have you in my life, then, and now.

Roomie is also a soul mate.  It took me a long time to figure out that he cares about me because he is so very nonverbal about his feelings.  When I was diagnosed, and I told him, his concern was obvious. We sat there and talked a lot.  He had nursed both of his parents through particularly nasty cancers, and what I had was nowhere near that extreme.  He helped me figure out the questions to ask. He fed me nutritious meals. He made sure that I had a beautiful, peaceful place to recover by redecorating my bedroom and my home office in the month betweeen the diagnosis and surgery.  He cleaned house for the month that I couldn’t, did my laundry, bandaged my wound while it took it’s sweet time closing, and so many other things.  I didn’t ask him to do any of this. In fact, I felt bad because in the months since he’d moved in, I’d had 2 surgeries that he helped me recover from while he was doing his best to rebuild his own life and business. He never said one word about the extra work, or care giving when I’m sure he was at the end of his own rope more than once during that time.  Having been through all that, our relationship has grown closer and more comfortable.  We are very different people, from very different worlds. In three years of living together as friends, we’ve made our own world together. After each of us exited brutally negative relationships, and had enough time for our hearts to heal, we found a friend in each other. Now we are more than friends. The love between us is unspoken, but shown in so many other ways every day. When we met, I never would have expected to call him a soul mate, but he is.

My cousin Rae, who went through everything that I went through 6 weeks earlier than I did kept me sane too.  We had some intense, brutally honest e-mail and phone conversations about it all, and that helped me SO much.  She also made a nice little recovery box for me for Christmas with some fun treats and useful stuff in it. She is the woman in my life that has a true, deep understanding of what I personally went through inside my head with the cancer, and with the body parts that went away along with the tumors, and with the after effects of losing those parts. No topic was off limit and that is awesome. With all of the taboo around female cancers, she and I could discuss things because we’d been there and faced that demon down, on our own, and later together in spirit.  If there was ever a sisterhood, Rae certainly qualifies.  She, by the way, is also cancer free for two + years now.  GO US!

My cousin Don, who I have always adored from afar,  was there for me too.  We’ve always been cousins, but never really friends.  He’s a little older than I am and lives 8 hours away. We love each other because we are family, but our lives were very separate. During my recovery though, we got to know each other pretty well through some e-mail conversations that had absolutely nothing to do with cancer and I loved and needed that interaction.  He also stopped by while I was recovering, and we’ve gone for dinner a couple of times since then when he is in town.  I treasure the time I get with him. He’s such a cool guy, and we communicate on a very human level.  Honest, open, and with love. Those e-mails gave me such insight into him. After a lifetime of only having time with him when the rest of the family is around, it was wonderful to get all of the one on one time that we did.

There’s a certain cheesehead that I’m also soulmates with. He and his wife came down and made sure that I knew I was loved before I went into the hospital.  He and I have a lot of history. I won’t go into too much of it here, but he is also someone that I communicate with on a very human level. We’ve dealt with some hard truths in our respective lives together. The first time I knew there was a connection between us, was when his Mother In Law, who was my cousin, died of cancer many years ago, I had opportunity to cry on a few people’s shoulders, but I chose not to. I was close to my cousin, and she died when I was in the middle of a horrible 2 week long bout of flu. I never got to say goodbye to her and that tore me up.  I held all those feelings in.  I was able to hold them in, that is,  until I saw him at her wake and the floodgates opened.  I didn’t cry on my soon to be ex-husband, or on cheesehead’s now ex wife, who’s mother was in the casket. It was him, and whatever this connection that we have, that put me in a place that was safe enough to let those tears go. He held me, and I cried hard. A few years down the road, it was him that I trusted enough to ask to be with me the day I got divorced. He came down early in the morning, and stood by me through the manic depressive rollercoaster that the morning of my divorce was. We laughed, we cried, we ate lunch, and he went back to work after he knew I was OK. That was an intense few hours. I’m not sure I would have held up as well without him there, and I’m still thankful for that time with him.  It was also him that I cooked that first post divorce Thanksgiving meal for. Fortunately, there were no tears that night. There was a lot of laughter and love, and having him and my daughter there was the perfect Thanksgiving.  So him coming down from Cheeseland a couple of weeks before my surgery, with his new wife, to take me to dinner and make sure that I knew they loved me, well, that’s something that a girl doesn’t forget easily. Especially not with the history that we have.

Speaking of my daughter, she and I have gotten closer too. I think the cancer and surgery had a lot to do with it. Also her growing up and getting married and realizing that I have always done my best to give her space and time to lead her own life probably did too. I survived cancer with her in mind. My mother died when I was the age that my daughter is now. I didn’t want to put her through that hell when her life is just getting into the right groove.  I’m still here and kicking and I got to see her marry a pretty great guy because of that.  She and I have been through a lot, but we both survived my ex, and I survived cancer, and now we both get to do more than just survive. I get to live and see my daughter grow up and turn into the woman that I raised her to be, and she gets to have a mom that she knows loves her no matter what.

So that was lesson number one from cancer. I am surrounded by so much love. Love that is stronger than any miscreant cells that were trying to kill me. When I really open myself up to the love that is there, I am humbled. I am energized too.  The singular most powerful force in this universe surrounded me in the guise of my friends and family, and with that kind of positive energy, there was no way that I wasn’t going to be just fine.

If cancer had to come into my life, if there was a purpose for it, I believe that realizing how much love I have was a big part of the lesson that it was there to teach.

There was one other very large lesson that I learned. I’ll write about it tomorrow.

Namaste

Personally I’m a lot more upset about Farrah Fawcett than Michael Jackson.  I respect his talent, which was huge, but he had so many problems, and that negativity overshadowed the pure energy that he was when he was performing.  His life was twisted and tortured by his own personal demons, but his music was amazing and he contributed a huge body of work at the time that my generation was listening.  I’ll remember that about him and not the bad stuff.

I also watched Farrah’s story.  Her documentary about having cancer aired in May and again this evening.  She fought the good fight with grace and as much dignity as her particular kind of cancer would allow.   That story touched me on a personal level. She worked at living, and literally fought for her life, for more than two years after her diagnosis. Y’all know my personal opinion of that particular disease. I believe I summed it up with two words on my private blog that I kept when I was going through my own very minor & curable version of it – Fuck Cancer.

Cancer takes thousands of lives every year.  Farrah’s last production was her documentary, and the unfortunate timing of Michael’s death somewhat took the spotlight off of the good that she did to show what cancer really does to a person.  Her death is tragic, she was a good person, and also a hugely talented actress, but the one good thing that could have come from it was the education and potential for donations to whatever cancer cause people are closest to. We won’t beat cancer until we throw enough research dollars at it to finally figure out the puzzle that lays in learning what makes a person susceptible, what causes cells to shift, and how to stop it from happening and cure it when it does.

Most of my donations go to the cancer society these days.  It’s a worthy cause. There are very few people that aren’t affected by it, whether it’s from having a loved one with it, or in my case, experiencing it myself.  I wouldn’t wish what I went through on anyone, and what I had was extraordinarily minor comparatively. I didn’t have to go through chemo or radiation. I had surgery, and I go to get checked every 3 months, and that’s it. Before my surgery, I did have to face my own mortality, and prepare for the inevitable. Nothing teaches a person what is important more than deciding who gets what piece of crap is left behind when they die.  How useless, how futile, who cares who gets what, really!?!  If I die, they’ll work it out. All I could do was offer my guidance and my wishes and realize that I’d have no control over whether any of it actually happened. That was a hard lesson. Cancer has no bias, no prejudice, it takes whoever it wants.  I believe that cancer is curable. I do what I can to help find the cure.

*stepping off the soap box*

Other things happened, or didn’t, this week.

I had registered for a photography class that I really would have enjoyed if it hadn’t been canceled. I didn’t find that out until I showed up for the class.  Oh well. At least I left work on time one day this week. I hope the school doesn’t hassle me about getting a refund.

All of the pieces of my waterbed have finally arrived, so tonight I’m spending the last night I’ll ever spend on my old beaten up rag of a mattress. Tomorrow morning the new mattress will take it’s place.  It will take a few hours to get it set up and filled, but when that’s done I’ll finally have the new bed.

I’m taking a few days off next week.  I have plans that I’ll share as the time gets closer.  At least one day will be spent with my best friend.  She had a birthday this week too. Her husband threw her a very cool suprise party.  If nothing else, it makes me happy that she’s got someone that loves her so much in her life.  She deserves that.  He got all her good friends together in one room for a few hours one evening. She was so happy, it was great to see.

So, it’s been a rollercoaster of a week.  The good news is that my company is doing well, and I got caught up with one of the three parts of my job today. I’ll work a few hours over the weekend and get a significant piece of another part of it done, and that will leave one project for the 2 days that I do work next week.  It’s been a challenge lately but I haven’t felt this on top of it for a while.   I have the weekend to get caught up at home too.  Once the bed is set up, the rest of the weekend will be dedicated to housekeeping. It needs it.  Physical work is more difficult than I want to admit, but I at least want the house clean for the 4th.  Who knows, maybe I’ll have a barbeque or something.

*commence whine*

My job used to be handled by 5 separate people. Through downsizing, it’s up to two of us now. Normally I share these duties with my partner, with him taking about 2/5ths of the load and I handle the rest because it’s mostly management stuff.  With him out, a sales push on, and the COO making decisions that directly cause increased management from me I’ve been working 11 non-stop hours a day, never catching up, and it’s getting to me. Two more days and it’s the weekend. Partner is working from home next week, but at least he’s working, and Monday’s a holiday, so I have a chance to catch up a little over the weekend before handing his stuff back to him.  I can make it 2 more days. I think.

(Sorry Ken, another cat update) I also have this beautiful, fairly young, animal who is very sick. The Vet is concerned enough to want daily updates, and today we decided that I have to force feed her a bit.  Fortunately she took to it. This food is like Ensure for kitties, and she likes taking it from a syringe. She ate a couple of tablespoons of it when I got home tonight, on top of maybe 1/10th of a cup of dry food that was gone since this morning.  So, she’s eating a little on her own, and this high calorie stuff should help too.  She’s also on steroids, antibiotics, and something that’s supposed to help her intestines remember how to push food through.  If I can get her back to normal, she’s never getting another kitty treat again.  The Vet suspects Irritable Bowel Syndrome, so she’ll probably be on a restricted diet of just high quality cat food and things like plain, cooked meat forever. Cats are carnivores, they have no use at all for the carbs in the canned/dry cat food.  This diet will be good for my diabetic cat too, so I guess I’ll just deal with the expense. They’re worth it.

I miss Roomie too. He’s still here, but we’re both so busy working that we haven’t had any quality conversation in a couple of weeks. It sucks.  I haven’t been around enough or had enough brain left at the end of the day to make much effort to be with him, and he’s been working well into the evenings, so we’re both in our own worlds for now.

OK, enough of that. Good Lord, I need some cheese with that whine.

Even two years ago I would have let all that get to me.  I’ll admit there’s not a lot that I’m enjoying about life right now, but that’s short term. All I have to do is look around me to see how blessed I am.

First of all, I’m alive. Being a cancer survivor, even the minor, mostly non-fatal kind of cancer that I had, puts a perspective on things that I didn’t have before. I’m Alive. I have a new chance every morning to experience everything that life brings, good and bad. I can take the bad stuff a little easier now because I have seriously considered the alternative of not being able to experience it.

Secondly, I have everything that I need. I’m by no means wealthy, but my pantry is stocked, my car runs,  I have a roof over my head, and a job that I really am grateful for and enjoy most of the time. I have the best family I could ask for, and I have friends that love me for who I am.  Anything more than that is gravy.  I’ve worked hard for what I have, and for how far I’ve come in the last few years. I take nothing for granted. At least I try not to.

Third, I’ve really been missing having a serious relationship with a man lately, but I’m also aware that by not having a relationship I have learned a lot of good things about myself.  I’m not dependent , needy, whiny, or weak. I don’t NEED a man to have a fulfilling life. I miss having someone to share my days (and nights) with, but I refuse to sit around and feel sorry for myself or cry that my life is empty in any way.  I have a good life. I have so much to be thankful for.  Lesson learned. The right man will come along eventually. I believe that.

While I’ve been writing this, the cat has gotten up 3 times for more food.  She’s definitely more alert and a little active tonight. Not her normal self yet, but she was looking really bad Monday. I think we’re through that.

Tonight, I had to stop at the vets office to pick up a can of the Kitty Ensure. It’s been raining here today and I got out of my car and accidentally walked right into a big puddle on the way into the office. I picked up the food and on the way back to the car, this time I intentionally stomped my way through it.  SPLASH!SPLASH!SPLASH!

That felt kind of good.

Tomorrow is another day.

Today I opened up the mail that came yesterday, and in it were the results from my last quarterly cancer screening almost 2 weeks ago.

There is good news. I’m still cancer free.

I crack up every time I get test results that say “normal”.  I guess it’s good that the only normal thing about me is the lack of abnormal cells…

Normal is anything under 35, the farther under, the better.

I scored a 2.

That’s the closest to normal that I believe I’ve ever been 

I purposely didn’t get on a scale until yesterday.  Between fluid retention (swelly belly) and just general lack of interest in eating (that’s coming back) I didn’t know which way it would go. 

I also have this wierdness going on hormonally. I don’t know how much my body is feeling the difference in Estrogen levels yet. I feel pretty good, emotionally stable, but just different enough that I know something’s changed.  I started reading about surgical menopause, and HRT and I had to stop because it scared me.  It was completely opposite of what I know about it from my research into Estrogen Overload and my previous issues.  I’ve decided to take a wait and see stance for a couple of months and see what my body does with the changed hormone levels. I also have a wonderful endocrinologist that will help me wade through that sea if I need to. Generally women that have had cancer tread lightly into HRT and only when necessary.

So now, I’m losing weight. Not really dieting, but to Roomie’s credit, he’s kicked up the healthy-ness of our meals together.  I haven’t wanted sweets, although I have had a few nibbles out of my St Nick’s stocking every day.  I’ve been drinking a LOT of water and juice and a little egg nog (’tis the season and all)  and in the last 11 days I think I’ve had a total of 4 diet cokes, and my last one of those was 3 days ago.

Things are a little different now and I need to figure out how to take this from this point in my life called surgical recovery, into the rest of my life, called living well.

Part of me says “no problem” and that I’m different now (body chemistry wise) so it makes sense that my underlying habits align to that. 

The fatalistic part of me says that I’m walking on egg shells, tread lightly, ride it for a while, but it’s bound to fail. That’s the kind of crash and burn mentality that got me to this weight in the first place though.

I’m going to do my best to ride out the “no problem” kind of thinking and ignore the egg shells.  I probably won’t lose weight as quickly once my pain level reduces more and my appetite comes back. I’m less interested in quick loss than I am in living healthfully.  My body has been through quite a bit in the last year, and I still have one more problem to fix, so getting healthy is definitely a priority. 

This last round with the doc’s shook me up. I’ve still got a bunch of healing to do, but I’m taking care. I only get one chance to get this right.  I’ve still got healing to do. I get the staples out Thurday, that will be a big relief. After that it’s just a matter of continued healing, and living well.