I just had to share.  I was happily working away on my school work in the dining room turned study and I could hear someone snoring.  I assumed it was one of the dogs.  However when I got up to investigate how HUBBY could be watching television with the loud rumble of dog snore I found this.

Turns out it was HUBBY who was snoring and he’d fallen asleep on the beagle.  She really is man’s best friend; laying still and supporting his sleeping head.  It’s just so cute.

HUBBY and I have been talking a lot lately about whether we move or whether we stay where we are.  Our house is brand new and sometimes I feel like it lacks some of the character that is evident in all the design blogs.  I like to think that it’s generic modern.

While the house is a decent size our yard is somewhat lacking because we’re in a townhouse.   I feel guilty that our yard is around 30 square meters and we have two dogs living it, but I’m that in some places in the world where our yard would be considered a large size.

It’s funny, I don’t want a yard because I want the large space I’d just like a yard that we can entertain in. If that makes sense.  So if we decide to stay here I’m going to spend some time looking at garden architecture and landscaping so that we can make our space livable.

I love these images from Napa Valley.  I dream of a trellis covered in wisteria, with hanging lights and a large table underneath it all.  A large rectangle table with mismatched chairs.  Only thing is we obviously don’t have the space to do something on the scale of the images above, but I’m sure I can use some of the design aesthetic to inspire a functional area for us to live in.

OI just have to make sure that we save the money for it.  Concentrate on the end goal.  This isn’t the house of our dreams, but I’d like to enjoy living here and lately I don’t feel like I do and I’m torn between putting money into this house and running the risk of over capitalising or being patient, saving the pennies and then buying the house that becomes the house of our dreams.

It’s just so complicated being a grown up… *wink*

Not many people in my circle play, or understand why I play, World of Warcraft.  In fact, if you’d told me that I would become a World of Warcraft player two years ago I would have told you to “get real”.  But here it is nearly two years since I first started playing and I’ve spent 80% of today playing World of Warcraft.  And you know what, I enjoyed every minute of it!

I don’t know why, but I love playing this game.  I love the changing environment.  I love the graphics.  I love the yearly in game events.  I love it all.  I even love that it’s task based and has it’s own economy.  I’m just crazy like that.

When I haven’t been playing World of Warcraft I’ve been completing the first of two of my Doll’s for Haiti.  I had planned to only do one and get it in the post today, but HUBBY has yet to secure a job so I’m holding off on spending the money on international post until we know what’s happening there.  I’ve also decided that one doll would get lonely in the post so I’m doing a boy and a girl.  I’m not 100% happy with how the girl has turned out, so I’m going to mix it up a little when I make the boy.  I’ll be sure to post all about it when they’re done.

I also managed to hand in all the documentation for my new job.  Apparently a security clearance takes 48 hours to complete and once that’s done (and I’m cleared) they’ll extended a start date.  So I’m thinking I’ll be back at work within the fortnight.  It’ll be strange to be going back to the first place I ever worked full time, but it will be nice in other ways.  (Like the income and security!)  HUBBY’s contract offer fell through and so he’s back to the drawing board.  But I’m positive that all things happen for a reason and it’s in GOD’s hands.  Until it’s sorted out we’re just going to have to watch our spending.

Tonight I played indoor soccer as a fill-in for someone who wasn’t able to make it.  I had a blast.  I’m so unfit it’s not funny and I have no idea how the actual game is played, but I still had fun.  Unfortunately the person who started the team wasn’t so thrilled to have ring-ins.  Oh well, you can’t win them all.  (Oh, and we didn’t win the game either!)  Maybe next season we’ll try and field our own team or something… who knows maybe Roller Derby will be more than enough for me to handle!

All in all it’s been a fairly relaxing day.  Spoke to my parents which was good (like always) and we had some laughs.  I’m really hoping that we’ll still be in a position to go away in April/May.  If we’re both not working soon though it’s looking shaky.  Just need to have faith I guess…

When I started this blogging lark over a year ago I didn’t really know what I had in mind.  I wanted to move from the LiveJournal world where I’d been happy but contained to a bigger sandpit.  Sure I had the dreams that every wannabe blogger has of being the next big thing in the blogging world, but that all seems like too much hard work.  I wanted to have a place where I could experience who I am and record the things that I enjoy.

I had been reading (and still do) Decor8 and Design Sponge and thought I’d like to have a blog in the same vein as those.  A place where people could come and look at the prettier things in life and dream of how they’d make their homes more their own.  So for awhile there I tried to find things that I thought other people would like.  It went well, and I enjoy it, but it never really rang true with me.  I struggled to find the motivation to post regularly or add anything more to the discussion.

Then I found Kindness Over Matter and I thought, “Maybe I’ll just spread joy and happiness.  I like joy and happiness so I’m sure other people will too.”  And for awhile there it worked, but again it didn’t really sing true to who I am.  I started to miss the intimacy of blogging about the real world; about what was happening to me.

But I was scared.  Scared that if I shared who I am, warts and all, that people would reject me.  So I continued to live a double life.  I bottled up what I was thinking and only showed what I thought people would find acceptable.  Then in November when I made a life changing decision I couldn’t keep it in any longer so I started Skinny Girl Trapped.  I started to blog about the personal side of life.  The things that I was going through medically and how it was affecting me.  It felt good to let it all out.  To have a place where I could just vent and rant and share about what I was going through and engage in a discussion with those reading and commenting.

Still something was missing.  It was too much hard work trying to keep the two sides apart.  To try and be me – but what I thought was a sociably acceptable version.  So I let somethings slide.  I avoided other things and I stopped doing what I enjoyed because of fear.  Fear of rejection.

It’s not a new thing in my world this fear.  It’s been here for a long time.  Not exactly sure when I let it in or when I started letting it dictate my choices in life.  Then last night while laying in bed thinking about my current state of affairs I saw the connections.  I’m living my life from a place of fear and it’s causing me to make decisions and react to things in a way I’m not happy with, or proud of.  I’m losing sight of who I am because I’m worried about what other people will think.  I’ve let myself be ruled by the critical voices in my head and not by the voice of reason I know I have.

Lately I’ve been operating out of a “hurt them before they hurt me” mentality.  I’ve been on the defensive, and I don’t like the person that makes me become.  I’ve felt attacked and so instead of just letting it wash over me I’ve decided to go on the defensive.  I’ve been negative, judgmental, irrational and hurt.    Which is not the person I want to be.  It’s not the person I believe myself to be at my core, but it has become the person I am putting out into the world.  It has to stop.

It’s time for me to drop the guards and be the person I know I am.  I need to reassess what’s motivating me and look at the way that I have reacted to those things.  I need to remember that the people that love me and the people I love will still want to be with me, warts and all.  I need to believe that as long as I’m true to myself then I will find people to compliment my world.

I need to remember that just because I don’t ‘click’ with someone doesn’t make me or them any less valuable.  It’s not a popularity contest and I don’t have to please everyone.  My days as the performing monkey are over and it’s time to move on.

As I lay there in the dark having this mini revelation I also had the accompanying moment of “How the hell do I do that?”.  I’m not really sure how one puts the fear aside and lives a true life.  I have some theories which I’m going to put into practice and see how it goes.  One of the theories involves this blog space.  I need to be true to my blogging self and stop worrying about the “audience”.  I need to do what makes me happy and use this like I used to use my Livejournal.

It’s a scrapbook of my life in digital format.  That means warts and all.   I have opinions and tastes and not everyone is going to agree or enjoy them, but I do.  I also like to learn about the world and debate the illogical reasons of my beliefs and choices.  How can I do that if I’m filtering my world to make it more ‘palatable’ for this mystery audience?

One thing I can do is stop with the double life.  So I’ve merged Skinny Girl Trapped and gnomeangel.  I’ve imported all the posts into the one place so now people will know I’m battling morbid obesity and I’m doing it through radical surgical treatment.  Being ashamed of that fact is part of what lead me to the position in the first place.  Eating to quieten the voices was not the most successful decision I ever made.  So there it is, I’m fat.  Not as fat as I used to be, but still fat.  I’m working on it and I’m ok with that.

I’m also going to start blogging about the little rants I have in life.  It might help me save HUBBY from having to listen to them over and over again.  I find that when I write it down it leaves my system and I can get on with things, where as at the moment I rant and rant and it gets bigger than it should be.  It won’t be pretty and I won’t be apologizing for being a fractured person.  It’s all of what makes the good things about me so good, because under it all I’m struggling every moment to overcome the nasty fearful hateful place that seems to want to taint everything.  Because I’m human.  I’m trying to be the best version of myself, but to do that I need to realise I’m not perfect and I don’t need to be.  I just need to be honest.

Long rambling post short; things are going to change around here.  Not drastically, because after all what I’ve been doing to date has been a part of me (just a slimmed down version, ironically) it’s just going to expand.  There’s going to be some remodeling and hopefully some regular posting.  I hope you stick around, but if not that’s ok.  You’re ok and I’m ok.  It’s all good.

This week has seen me return to my workplace.  In the lead up to returning to work I was worried about how I would manage the food and liquid intake.  It has turned out to be different to what I was expecting.

My fluid intake still leaves something to be desired, but I’m heading out on my lunch breaks and picking up a juice so that’s made a difference.  The first few days at work I wasn’t feeling so crash hot so I didn’t really eat that much while I was at work.  But Thursday seemed to see a change in the way my body was reacting to food so I started eating more solid food at work.  It’s not been as bad as I thought it would be.  I’m lucky that I’ve got an hour to let the food settle. 

I’ve been keeping a food journal, thanks to my nifty new moleskine diary.  I’ve also decided (for now) to publish my food journal.  I can’t shake the feeling that it might help someone out there understand what happens and what they can expect when it comes to eating post surgery.  It paints an interesting picture.  I wonder if I should be more vigilant and record fluid intake and the time when I eat.  For now I’m just going to concentrate on keeping the record as I’ve not had a good history of recording my intake in the past.

I have been feeling a little off colour this week so I’ve spent every night (except for our dinner party excursion on Wednesday night) going to bed straight after work.  I’ve not been exercising and I’ve been sleeping in till I absolutely have to get out of bed, so my plans for being super organised and active woman have fallen through the cracks this week.  But I can, and will, change that.

On Saturday afternoon I’m planning on going ice-skating with Alivicwil so that should be a nice little bit of fun exercise for the day.  I’ll also get back on the treadmill on the weekend and start that routine again.  It’s about small steps.

I’ve spent the last few days hitting the treadmill in an attempt to get into an exercise habit.  It’s been really enjoyable, which is something I wouldn’t have thought I would say about exercising.  I’m currently only doing 30 minutes a day, but in a month I hope to be up to two 30 minute sessions a day.  Normally I exercise in the morning, when I get up, but yesterday I did 30 minutes just before I went to bed to see whether it made a difference or not.

I haven’t slept so soundly in a long time.  It was great.  I won’t have a chance to do a late night session tonight so I’ve already done 30 minutes.  I’d like to keep a night time session, but I know myself well enough that if I don’t get it out of the way as soon as possible I’ll find an excuse not to do it later.  So while I’m in these early stages I’m not going to risk it.

I’ve moved on to solid foods, mostly mashed potato and baby food.  Yesterday I made egg salad in an attempt to mix it up a little and get some more protein.  I really enjoyed eating the egg, but it’s so frustrating.  I have two tablespoons and I’m full to bursting.  It’s the same with fluid at the moment.  A few mouthfuls in a row and it’s like I’m going to be sick.  I feel like I’m taking a slide backwards.

The frustration at not being able to eat a “normal” meal is also getting to me.  I try and think rationally about it, but when it’s happening it’s hard not to feel cheated.  I know this is something I chose, but sometimes it’s just so hard.  I don’t think any amount of talking with other patients, the doctors and the dietitians can prepare you for this.  Also, I guess everyone is different and different things turn out to be important at different times.  I never thought portion size would be an issue, in fact it was one of the things I was looking forward to; feeling full sooner.

I’ve also gotten into a really bad habit of weighing myself everyday.  It’s crazy and I shouldn’t be doing it.  Especially since my scales keep returning the same number for the past few days; no matter what time of the day I weigh myself.  It’s a risky move to be doing.  It’ll either inspire me to keep going or cause the wheels to come of my wagon.  I need to just wait patiently until Sunday.  But patience never was my strongest suit.

I’ve become addicted to cordial.  I seem to have reached my limit for plain water and now I taint nearly every glass with cordial.  I think cordial may be my new Coke Zero.  I used to drink up to three cans of Coke Zero a day prior to the operation.  In the two weeks on Optifast I cut down to one a day.  However in the summer heat I have found myself craving a Coke, especially when we’ve been at the movies.  They say to avoid fizzy drinks in the first four weeks, but I’m going to wait until my 40 days are up and even then I’m going to see if I can kick soda altogether.  Although, if I’m going to insist on drinking full strength cordial I really should do the math and see which one is “better” healthwise.

We’re heading to a NYE party tonight and as has become the custom I shall be taking my own food and drink supply.  It makes me feel like a freak to have to take my own food.  I hate standing out because of my size and now I stand out as well because I’m the fat girl that has to eat special food.  I hate it.  I wish I’d had the smarts to stay home, but the socializing will do me good.  I tend to get stuck in my own mental patterns otherwise and it’s a downward spiral.  I need to be focusing on the positives.  Like I managed to wear jeans I haven’t been able to wear in over a year.  Or the shirts I bought while on holiday can now actually be worn.  Or the fact that I went through and packed up to donate half my current wardrobe because it no longer fits (in a good way).  So many positives and I seem to be able to only see the negatives.  It’s crazy how the mind works.

I also seem to be thinking more about my early twenties and the things that I did then.  I had such a good time growing up.  I wouldn’t change any of it – well that’s not true.  I’d like to go back and smack my younger self upside the head for thinking I was massively overweight.  I wasn’t.  I was five kilos outside my goal weight.  I’d also like to warn myself about the perils of emotional eating before it really got out of hand.  But, hindsight is always 20/20 and if I hadn’t done those things I might not have met the wonderful man that is now my husband and that would have sucked.  (Understatement of 2009 there!)  But I digress, this summer is reminding me of those times.  The partying and the laughs.  I would love to have that again.  I was confident and outgoing and I feel like I’ve let my weight dictate my mental image which has seen me collapse in on myself.

I panic when we go out that I’ll run into someone who hasn’t seen me in a long time and have to watch the “man, you got big” look come into their eyes.  I’m reminded of a trip home I made when I was twenty kilos overweight and I ran into a guy I used to party with and he said to me “What happened to you? You used to be hot!”  It’s funny how that one encounter has stayed with me for so long and now I’m 60 kilos overweight.  Imagine what he’d say now!  Probably nothing.  People get scared of the fat.  When you’re a few kilos overweight they have no problem with calling you fat, really put on the pounds and they shut up.

That’s when you know you’re in trouble; when the silence comes.  People no longer comment on your appearance.  They gaze in wonder when they think you’re not looking, praying that it doesn’t happen to them.  I remember thinking when I was 19, “How do people let themselves get that big?  It’s not like you wake up one day and you’re fat.  Surely they can do something about it?”  Oh how those thoughts haunt me now.  It’s true you don’t wake up one day and think “Shit, I’m huge!”  You wake up everyday and think, “Man, I need to lose some pounds.  I’ll go on a diet.”  You make it through breakfast and then hit lunch and think, “Mmmm… those chips smell awesome.  I might just duck down to KFC, but I’ll only have the small.”  Then you’re at KFC and the kid behind the counter says “Would you like to upgrade for $1?” And you find yourself saying, “Sure!”  Before you know it you’re waking up again in a few months and thinking “Man, I need to lose some pounds.  I’ll go on a diet.”  Only this time you’re ten kilos bigger than last time.  And the cycle continues.  Before you know it you’re sitting in a Bariatric Surgeons office talking over the best way for them to surgically assist your fat ass to lose a few pounds.

The thoughts of “Man, I need to lose some pounds.  I’ll go on a diet” are replaced with “How did I let myself get to this stage?”  It’s hard not to feel like a freak when it comes to thinking about the surgery.  Sometimes I feel like I took the easy and lazy way out, then I think about the four weeks that are behind me and I wonder if I didn’t take the harder option.  But it’s no use dwelling on the past or the actions that have gotten me here.  I need to focus on the taking one day at a time and making that day count.  Which is a thousand fold easier to type than it is to do.

I’ve been a little bit quiet, but it’s the festive season so I hope you’ll forgive me.  Things have been puttering along.  I’ve found a few things of interest, but I’ll get to those after I give you the latest statistics.

The weight loss for this week has slowed considerably, but it’s still over a kilogram lost.  I’ve been trying to work out what the difference has been and I think I can attribute it to the following:

• No exercise – I stopped doing my thirty minutes on the treadmill.  This has to change, back to walking I go.
• Increase in high sugar foods - I’ve been eating a lot of Frosty Fruits in this heat and I’ve increased my ice-cream intake.  While it’s not at the same level (nowhere near it!) that I used to have it’s still wasted sugar when I’m not exercising.
• Decrease in protein – I’m struggling to drink the milky drinks, like Up & Go and Sustagen.  They seem to bloat me and make me feel sick, so I’ve dropped my intake of them.  Which I think is impacting on my desire to have empty calories.  I need to start forcing myself to get these drinks back on the rotation.

But a loss is still a loss and I need to learn about what my body can and cannot handle now.  The measurements are really starting to reflect the changes that are happening.  I’m not going to take another set of photos until my 40 day mark is up on 22 January 2010.  I’ll be sharing my weight loss and lessons each Sunday however.

I have found over the past week that I can no longer stomach milk.  I used to live on the stuff, now it’s like a lead weight.  I’m really bummed about this and I hope it’s something that passes with time.  I can’t imagine a life without milk!

Today is my last day of a fluid only diet! Woo Hoo!  However I have started to put a few “solids” in my intake.  On the 24th I blended cheese and macaroni.  I thought I had busted my stitches!  It was WAY to heavy and despite only have about 3 tablespoons I thought I was going to hurl.  I ended up laying down for half an hour and waiting for the exploding feeling to pass.  I am really lucky that I didn’t do any damage!  It certainly made me cautious about what else I ate!

On Christmas day I made the best scrambled eggs of my life; 7 eggs, 350mL thickened cream, garlic and Parmesan cheese.   Combine and whisk.  It was awesome.  I only had about a quarter of a cup and HUBBY had the rest.  But it was so worth it.  (I used 7 eggs because they were due to expire.)  I was so full after wards.

I’m really struggling with the new limited intake.  It’s frustrating to want to eat and not be able to.  I’m not getting as much intake as I thought I would and I’m kind of hoping it’s because I’m still healing, but I don’t think it is.  I think this is it.  There’s just so much yummy out there and I can’t eat it like I used to.  I think this will be one of the things that takes the longest to sink in.

On Boxing Day we went to the movies.  I had a juice and a chocolate sundae.  Big mistake!  I spent twenty minutes during the movie in the bathroom trying not to throw up while my body got rid of the too rich food.  It’s hard to remember sometimes that just because you can eat it doesn’t mean you should.  I hate being sick, but it taught me a good lesson; rich foods are not my friend!

On the way home from the movies we stopped at a corner store (supermarkets were closed for the holiday) and I picked up some more tinned soup and some baby food.  The range in baby food this day is amazing. Organic and complex recipes.  It was like striking gold.  Last night I have organic beef and vegetables for dinner.  Kids have it so good!  I ended up with the best of the limited range they had and I’m looking forward to hitting a major supermarket and going nuts on the baby food.  The 170g serving sizes are great – just enough to fill me to popping.  It’s going to be strange taking baby food to work, but it’s a small price to pay for something other than fluid.

I’m really looking forward to real food, but even then I don’t think it’s going to be the same as before.  I’d kill for some bread.  HUBBY made toasted sandwiches today and I thought I was going to rip his arm off as he walked past.  It smelt so damn good!  Bread will be something to look forward to in February I suspect.

That’s one thing this experience has made me, an expert in the countdown.  Three days to surgery, 14 days to puree, 40 days to safety and 30 kilos to go.  I seem to just be counting down all the time now.  Watching the calendar and making calculations.  In one way it’s really horrible that everything comes down to crossing those days off the calendar, and in other ways it’s teaching me a level of patience I’ve just never had.  It’s a struggle.  Every day is a struggle.  Sometimes the struggle is easier and sometimes it feels like I could break under it.   The desire to eat something “real” is so overwhelming at times it’s all I can do not to curl in a ball and cry.

Hopefully the ability to eat puree will release some of the pressure.  Something other than fluids.  It’s still going to be hard to be in social settings and not be able to eat like everyone else.  To be able to sample things even.  But it’ll get better, just a matter of counting the days and waiting I guess.

This post comes from the idyllic surroundings of the Calvary Hospital.  The surgery was performed on Monday morning and all went according to plan.  I was back on the ward by Monday afternoon sans 80% of my stomach.

I don’t remember much from Monday night as I was out to it from all the drugs.  I do remember the gentle and incessant observation checks by the night staff while I was doing my best to remain unconscious.

Tuesday revealed that I had a roommate, Jo, who’d also had the gastric sleeve done.  Turns out we’re two peas in a pod.  I’ve nicknamed us the Muppet Men of Ward 6 West.  We think we’re the bain of the nursing staff here.

I’ve been handling the whole thing fairly well.  I’ve got limited pain and I’ve managed to set up a routine of doing fifteen minute laps of the ward during the day and the evening.

The most pain I’m experiencing is with the gas build up from the operation.  So there was much rejoicing when I was finally able to pass wind this afternoon.  Jo and I cackled like crazy children.  It was just what I needed.

I moved on to partial clear fluids today.  I’m still on an IV but I’m allowed to have the soup, juice, jelly and cordial that’s passed around at meal times.  I’d love some ice-cream though.  Something sweet and cold.

All in all it’s going as expected.  It’s been brilliant to share a room with someone who’s going through the same thing.  It’s been a real blessing.

I’ve been so tired during the days, and then our nights are a little up and down that the days just seem to be flying.  At this stage it looks like I’ll be discharged on Friday.  I’m a little concerned about what I’ll eat when I get home, but I’m sure we’ll sort it out.

I’ll write more about everything once I’m home.  At the moment I’m set up on a little desk thing that really wasn’t meant to be a laptop desk and my IV is dragging across the laptop.  Not the best way to be writing.  But I’m alive and very grateful to be well.  Thank you for all the well wishes and support!

Last post before I have the surgery.  I’m supposed to be at the hospital at 7am tomorrow morning and theater is booked for 8:30am.  Apparently the surgery takes 3 – 4 hours, so I should be out by lunchtime.

I’m nervous, but I’m confident in the skills of the team around me.  I’ve had a day of Optifast as per the instructions.

All that’s left is to tell those I love that they mean the world to me and get in some last minute cuddles.  I’ve packed my teddy bear.

I’m trying to focus on the positives that will follow from this procedure.  It’s not how I thought I would end up, but it’s something I have to take ownership of and be honest with myself.  I need help to lose the weight and this is the next evolution.  I need to make the lifestyle changes that are needed.  The surgery is not going to do it for me by itself.  I need to make long term changes.  It’s going to be a long road.

I need to get in some last cuddles with my boy and the puppies.  I’m so very thankful for everything I have.  I’m so very blessed.  Thank you, LORD.  Please watch over me as I go through this next surgery and healing.  Amen.

Two sleeps to go until I have life altering surgery.  At least that’s how it’s starting to play in my head.  This is major.  No going back, no holds barred, no beg your pardons.  I am paying someone to remove 80% of a working organ.  On what planet does this sound like a credible course of action?  It’s just mental.

But I’m going to do it.  I’m going to make this change and hope that it works like they say it will.  I haven’t been able to find anywhere that details people putting weight on after the procedure, but it still hasn’t stopped me from thinking about that as an  outcome.  How many people don’t lose the weight they need to after the surgery?

I have all these questions floating through my head and no real way of getting everything out.  I spent today finalizing all of my Christmas stuff.  I just have to have everything done in case the worst happens and I don’t get another chance to tell everyone I love them and I’m thankful for their presence in my life.

I hate thinking about no more cuddles with HUBBY.  I adore him so much and I don’t want an existence without him.  That last hug before surgery always gets me.  I don’t think I’ll ever be able to convey how much I love him.  How my heart swells just by thinking about him.  He’s amazing and I’m so very lucky.

I’ve been reading stories over on the support boards and trying to visualise what the experience is going to be like.  I can’t help feeling at times like this could be another fad and I’ll have done something really wrong to myself.  I try and move past these thoughts, but the unknown has always freaked me out.  Guess that’s the downside to being a control freak.

I have to pack my hospital bag tomorrow and I think that’s going to be a major milestone as well.  I’m not really sure what to take, but I’m sure there’s some information in my admission pack.  I don’t know whether I’ll want to wear pajama pants or not.  The only definite thing I have on my to-pack list is Schlep (my teddy bear).  I wish I could pack the dogs as well – puppy cuddles are always welcome.

Every so often the thought of having four hours of my life gone and knowing that people have been “doing things” to me blows my mind.  It’s such a trusting position to be in.  I’m glad that I don’t know anyone in the nursing or surgical profession, I don’t think I could handle hearing horror stories at the moment.

Tomorrow I’m going to take the next set of photo’s and do my measurements again and see what difference the Optifast has made.  Should be interesting.  I’m not expecting a lot, I’m just hoping that my liver has shrunk.

But enough with the melodramatics.  I’m going to hang up my laptop and go spend some quality time with the man I love and adore.