Who would have thought two years ago I would be sitting here writing about the same hopes and fears (mostly fears) I had the first time I went through this?
The first time I had surgery, I thought what if this fails? What if I fail? I also thought how on earth did you let yourself get to this point?
Tonight, as I prepare to go to work on Monday, I find myself thinking about what I'm going to wear. But not just about what I'm going to wear, but what is going to fit. A weight gain of 15 lbs is a full pants size and a lot on my frame. And I find myself thinking again, how on earth did you get here? I always knew I was going to have the "replacement" surgery. But I remember when I was sick last year due to the complication and I was at my lowest weight and I told myself I'd never be in this position again. And yet here I am...and how can I not consider myself a failure because of that?
To be honest, I know that weight wasn't real. I go back to my definition if insanity. The logic is there. I was losing weight because the piece of plastic they put inside me was eroding my stomach...I was sick! But what I wonder is why I couldn't be strong enough to not even gain an ounce of that weight back even though during this time I was training for my second half marathon?
The pain isn't what I'm worried about. The part about them removing a piece of my stomach isn't what I'm worried about. (Although it should be, I mean who does that? Just like, here I've got some excess stomach I just don't really feel is doing me any good, why don't you just take that and give it to all those poor people who don't have enough stomach).
I'm worried about failing. And that is the scariest of them all.