The big day is afoot, and I am as prepared as I’ll ever be. So prepared that I even took my Plan of Action spreadsheet and completely redid it. Why? Because I wanted to add an inconsequential column right in the middle of the whole mess and it was just easier to start over from scratch. Also because I am a psychotic overplanner.
HOLY CRAP I’M GONNA MISS MY DOGS. Seven days without them is going to be rough. After I drop them off at the sitter tomorrow (plans changed), everything will be set. My bags are packed, transportation is lined up, and work is 99% complete. I’m only going into the office tomorrow to finish a couple of lingering projects. Then, for the first time in nearly 13 years of working there, I will turn off work mode completely and give 100% attention to healing. I’m going to surrender to my traumatized body and let the people who care about me nurse me back to health.
I suppose I should say something meaningful about what I’m looking forward to, or what I’d like to accomplish by having skin removal surgery. Here are a few that I can name off the top of my head, in no particular order:
- Running, jumping, or doing any high intensity movements without my pants constantly falling down or my stomach smacking me in the chin
- Taking a shower without having to lift up and scrub underneath my various derma-layers
- SEEING MY BELLY BUTTON!
- Wearing pants not pulled way up over my belly button with my front butt tucked into it
- Burning all my Spanx
- Not being afraid of knocking things over with my batwings
- Showing off my super ripped arms without being embarrassed about said batwings
- Having boobs that resemble boobs
- The possibility of having defined abs
- Wearing certain types of clothes that would’ve never worked before
One of the main reasons people want this surgery is so they can wear a bikini in public. That is why scars and scar placements are a big deal and considered a “bummer.” To be perfectly honest, I don’t care about that. Sure, my chances of wearing a two piece in front of other humans will shoot up about 8,000 percent, but it’s not even in the top 10 reasons why I’m doing this. Besides, my inner thighs are still a mess. I’ve briefly discussed a medial thigh lift with my surgeon, but if I chose to get that done, it would have to wait until next year. That’s a conversation for another day though…
And the scars? Scars don’t bother me. I actually think they’re kinda cool and give me a story to tell. The surgeries are going to leave me with faint scars across my belly, under my arms, and below my boobs. It’s not even a question of whether or not they’re worth it. I am not ashamed of what I used to be; I was still the same person I am now. That person just made horrible health choices. This is just my opinion, but I think someone like me, who has seen both the super fat and not so fat sides of life, appreciates the latter a lot more than someone who has been thin forever.
Today at work a few people asked me if I was scared, nervous, excited, or what. I’m not nervous or scared at all. Yes, I know there will be some pain during recovery, but just like the scars, it’s not a question of whether or not it’s worth it. It is a fact of life, and no amount of worrying over it will make it hurt less. If anything, it will make it hurt more. In fact I had to stop reading random strangers’ accounts of their own surgeries because who the hell knows what their pain tolerance is like? They might be the type that pops percocet for cramps or Advil for a severed finger.
When you guys started calling me “brave” for doing this and sharing my story, I thought it was so sweet, but also kinda silly! Is it really being brave when you’re excited about sharing? I want to tell you guys all about it, of course! Like I said, I have no shame whatsoever about anything that I’m doing, anything I’ve done, or where I’ve come from.
So, this is it. The next time I write you I’ll be on the other side. Until then…