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I have been so focused on getting approved for the surgery, focusing on other people success and imagining my own that I hadn't really thought much about the possibility of dying in surgery until recently. It’s terrifying. I have a six year old boy. when my grandmother had passed in April, it was the first death He had ever experienced. I just keep replaying through my mind when he told me "mom if you ever die and go to heaven, Id make myself die to so we could be together" indescribably upsetting words to hear your child speak :’( Three nights ago I was lying in bed and panic came over me as I thought of how I will be putting myself in a position where it could definitely happen (DEATH) if I go through with the surgery. I’ve read differing statistics: 1 in 400 die, 1 in a 1,000 die, and honestly those don’t sound good. I woke up the next day still very much worried. I sat in my recliner as I do every day because my knees hurt. I watched t.v. and played on my laptop as I do every day, to numb my mind of my barely getting by existence.I sit home alone in isolation most of the day until My beautiful boy gets home and then I’m too tired to play and have a short fuse with him because I’m constantly exhausted (just like every other day). A couple tears ran down my face at the realization that my hope for a better life has to be stronger than my fears of dying this time. Im not happy being in pain and always tired. I’m not the good mom or wife I know I can be. I can’t fulfill my dream of becoming a nurse because I can barely shower and dress myself with out resting in between. I have had to stop wearing socks with my shoes because when I try to put them on, I pull muscles in either my leg, stomach or back. My life is so far from where I want it and I know I can get it back on track with this surgery. I might die because of this surgery. I will definitely die early if I don’t get this weight off. But I might be able to live AFTER this surgery… I don’t consider this living now.

Last month, I went to a professional conference in Dallas and met a lot of the same colleagues I meet every year. Many of them could not believe my dramatic weight loss. People kept telling me how good I looked. In fact, they were overflowing with comments over how good I looked. Over the last two weeks, I went out to lunch with two different friends of mine; people who I’ve known through work that have not seen me in a while. They were also gushing over how good I looked and how much weight I had lost. The bottom line that I took away from all of these comments was that I’ve lost a lot of weight. The reaction of all of these people scares me. The thing that it leaves me wondering is, “My God, how fat must I have been for these people to have such a reaction to my weight loss?” I never really thought that I was that fat. In fact, I know the numbers say differently, but I feel about as fat as I did when I had an extra eighty pounds on me. In fact, I even feel like I look as if I have another eighty pounds on me. So really, how fat was I? This is partly a very embarrassing question because I really must have let myself go. All of these comments from other people make me quite nervous. While I appreciate it, they feed into my insecurities. On some level, my weight loss is a private matter, and I would like to keep it as such. However, that’s not possible when everybody around you can physically see the changes in your body. People are bound to comment. I asked one friend with whom I can speak frankly with, “Everybody has told me how wonderful I look and how much weight I’ve lost. Everyone has been gushing over me, which leads me to wonder exactly how fat I was.” He just looked at me and said, “Jack, you were really fat. You were so fat that I was really worried about you. When I stood next to you, I could hear you having trouble breathing and I was scared for you. You’ve had trouble walking and getting around. You look a lot better and a lot healthier now.” I was partly in shock. I did not realize that was the image I had been portraying for so long. Now, I am just embarrassed about my weight. I’m embarrassed that I let myself go to such a level. I’m embarrassed to even discuss it. It’s almost as if I feel like I owe the world an apology for being so fat. I feel like saying to everyone, I’m sorry that I let myself go and became as fat as I did. Please forgive me. Please, for God’s sakes, love me now for the new me. Did I feel loved when I weighed 325 pounds? I knew that there were people out there who loved me, but no, I didn’t feel loved. Do I feel loved now? No, I don’t, but I do feel that I am capable of being loved, whereas I didn’t before. I think partly it was because I didn’t love myself, and now, very slowly, I am learning to love myself.

SOOOOOOOOOOO got on the scale today...... *DRUM ROLL* DOWN 2 LBS SINCE LAST WEIGH IN!!!!!! A small victory...but a victory none the less. My legs are jelly, apparently I have muscles in my butt that I never knew where there....We have become friends now lol. Totally in pain, but totally worth it! Sorry...had to toot my own horn lol.