At the Moment

Adjusting

I know.

I’m sorry. This is indeed my stomach zipper (i.e. stomach staples).

I know.

I can’t believe I posted a picture of my puckered, poochy belly on the Internet but you know? Such is life. And I will look back on this time period one of these days, shake my head and think, “Dang. Those are some wicked looking staples.”

Because they are, they really are.

They’re also incredibly uncomfortable.

I felt good today – then I went grocery shopping with Kevin. I spent 45 minutes walking around Wal-Mart trying to breathe deeply while consciously making an effort not to stab clueless people in the face as they stood before a row of beans and tried to decide, “pinto or black? I can’t decide!”

AARGH. I’m in pain people, get out of my way!

I over did it. I came home and crashed, literally. I curled up on the sofa, pulled a blanket over my head and pretty much passed out for 30 minutes before I felt strong enough to get up and join life once again. It’s AMAZING how much energy it takes just to do simple things – like shower. Or put on makeup. Or breathe.

Kevin has been great. He’s been taking care of me, the house and making sure we don’t starve. I’m eating, but barely. Part of me is simply not that hungry, part of me is scared to eat. Things are moving along, but HOLY SQUEEZE THE CRAP OUT OF ME BATMAN, it’s painful to pass anything. It feels like someone has a hold of my intestine and is jerking me around at their whim. NOT FUN.

I’ve been drinking a lot of juice, which has helped – I’m terrified of getting constipated but things seem to be working their way through at this point. I go in to see the doctor on Thursday to get my staples removed and I’ve made a list of questions to ask my doctor, because the man is not the talkative type and if I don’t ask, I won’t know. He’s certainly not going to supply any information.

I’m most curious to know exactly how much they cut out of me. From the way the doctor described the chunk of intestine he removed, it’s an impressive amount. I also want to know what in the world I can do (if anything) to prevent this nightmare from reoccurring.

In the meantime, I’m sitting around the house in my sweats and comfy socks (Yes mom, I WEAR them and they are spectacular!) waiting for my body to readjust to this rather rude interruption.

It’s nearly 8:00 p.m. and I’m ready for bed.

Ugh. Normal can’t get here fast enough.