On Monday it will be three weeks since my surgery. It hasn't been easy but I've made it this far, which feels like a great accomplishment. The first two weeks were hell on Earth and I seriously considered at one point going back to the surgeon and tell him I made a huge mistake. I cried a few times when I had to drink protein shakes while everyone around me was enjoying their meal. Every day felt like an eternity of misery that would never end. When you're as addict to food as I am, it's pretty rough without it.<div>  But I made it. Somehow, by sheer force of will, I made it. Now I'm in the soft food phase at last and I'm starting to get my rhythm. Staying hydrated, making good food choices, trying to move my butt a few times a week (working up to every day) and realizing that food is starting to relax its grip on me. I'm starting to learn that I need to eat to live, not the other way around. The only way to go now is forward. I can't guarantee I won't screw up once in a while, but I have to forgive myself and move on. I'm only human after all. Well, more of a bionic human now I guess. Me and Bandy against the world!</div>