Gastric Bypass Truth

I took a shower yesterday.

You know you’re in bad shape when that’s news. But I am, and it is. It’s now been a solid month since my emergency surgery, and just over three weeks since the incision became infected. Since then, I’ve basically been sleeping most of the time, or just laying around. After a month of that, I have no energy.

Since I hadn’t seen myself without clothes for a while, it was more than the normal shock. You see, with clothes on, I look pretty darn good. I’m somewhere between a size 8 and a 10, depending on where I’ve tried stuff on. And I’ve even begun to see myself as being this size.

But once the clothes came off… Well, it’s a bit jarring to see my sagging skin. I’ve lost 10 pounds pretty quickly during this ordeal, and those pounds have been the hardest on my skin.

My stomach looks like melted candle wax.

As I’ve said before, this really messes with your head. One minute, you’re feeling pretty hot, then the next it’s like whoa! When did my body turn 80?

But at this point, I cannot even contemplate plastic surgery. And in fact, I may never. Originally, I was sure I’d try to find a way to have my excess skin removed, probably by this time next year. But tummy tucks can’t be done laproscopically, which means incisions. Which means the possibility for infection, and I’m not sure I’ll ever be up to that risk again.

So, I’m telling myself it’s not so bad. The only person who’ll ever see it is my sweet husband, who insists he doesn’t care. Still, the thought of getting naked isn’t really an exciting one for me.

I’ve got this lotion stuff from Nivea, body reshaping I think they call it. When I can remember to use it, I can tell a difference. Once I get this infernal wound vac removed from my stomach, I’m going to make a concerted effort to use it at least once a day for a month or so and see if it really can make a difference.

Who knows? Maybe if I can get to the gym and do some toning (instead of just aerobics) and combine that with the lotion, by this time next year I’ll have something I can live with.

It never hurts to hope.