One hundred and eight weeks out from surgery, and here are the numbers I care about:
- Weight: 242
Up a pound, or close enough to say so. It’s still been a good week. Prior to losing the weight, I was unable to purchase dress shirts or suits off the rack, so I had to have them tailored (which is expensive as fuck). I can buy dress shirts now, but suit coats are still a bummer, and mostly I have – this is a conservative estimate – $7500 worth of tailored clothes hanging in my closet that no longer fit. So I went to see my tailor the other day, and the look on his face when he saw me was worth every penny of the $7500 worth of clothes I can’t have altered (apparently it’s so much work it’s just cheaper to buy new clothes). He literally spent ten minutes staring at me and shaking his head in disbelief. The last time he’d seen me, I was a couple hundred pounds heavier and I had hair. Anyway, it was a great feeling and it absolutely eased the pain of having to get a new suit made.
Three things I’m grateful for:
- Annette. I love my wife to death. I spent the last nine, ten months worried like mad that the surgery she had a month ago was going to take her from me, and now she’s walking around without a neck brace and the surgeon said her most recent x-rays look fantastic. I couldn’t be happier or more relieved.
- Annette. On Saturday, we celebrated our seventeenth year of marriage, and each year has been better than the last. She makes me happier than I ever could’ve imagined.
- Annette. And one of those reasons is because she knows how to celebrate. We could easily have gone to a restaurant and dropped a bunch of money on bullshit “ambiance” but instead, we went to the pier, dropped a bunch of money on two magnificent, giant crabs, just devoured the shit out of them, and then we went and bought some new patio furniture for the backyard, because we’d like to enjoy the things we have a little more. She’s the bestest.
I’m happy this week.
Here, have a graphic:
