Twenty two weeks out from surgery, and here are the numbers I care about:
- Weight: 289
- Blood Sugar: 100
One month ago I was stuck in the middle of a stall, at 302 pounds, and as of this morning, that was 13 pounds ago. I’d love to tell you that the memory of this moment will come forward and calm me when I’m in the middle of my next stall, but I think we both know that’s a lie.
I have not had bread in five and a half months. And I do not miss it. #FuckBread
I’m happy. As I write this, I’m waiting on the video to render for a tutorial I recorded for my online class in the spring. I turned my grades in four days ago, I’m off the clock for another three weeks, by the end of the day I’ll be prepped for all four of my winter / spring classes, and at that point, there’s literally nothing to do except get a pedicure, work on my book, watch too many Marvel movies, have four Christmases, and go on vacation with Annette and the dogs.
I am very much aware of how obscenely lucky I am. This is a rough time of year, especially for everyone who isn’t as lucky as I am. Let’s close our eyes for a moment and send each other a psychic email reminding all of us that we have worth, that we matter, that we’re loved, and that we belong here. It’s too easy to forget these things.
Here, have a graphic: