Thursday, August 29, 2013


I'm not going to go into details about the surgery, because I don't really have any. I just know that the procedure was done laproscopically (however you spell it) and that they only took out my uterus.

The surgery wasn't scary. I honestly didn't really think much about it before hand. I basically went in, knowing Mom and Dad would see me later in the afternoon, and that they'd bring my backpack so I could do art while I rested in my hospital bed, one night, and then I'd go home. I didn't anticipate the pain medicine they'd have me on, which basically kept me barely awake until I stopped asking for it. I knew I'd be on a catheter, but I didn't know that I had to be off of it and "successful" on my own before they'd let me go home. That took a little while. I also had no idea that I wouldn't be able to eat. Anything. And I had to eat, in order to go home. So I forced myself to do so, because I could not, would not spend one more night in that place. It was horrible. The strangest thing? You go home, you heal, you go on with life, as if nothing happened. But it did. I had an anxiety attack while I was in there. Nothing too serious, thank God, and I was able to get through it WITH God, but still... I promised myself I wouldn't eat any more junk food, because it's bad for you. And if I eat junk food, knowingly doing harm to my body, then it stands to reason that I could end up in the hospital as I grow older for whatever I've done to my body while I was younger. That, and add to the fact that my Dad has breathing issues... what they call COPD. I also tend to have breathing issues... they finally diagnosed me with asthma, even though I only need the inhaler every so often. I don't want that to get worse. I don't want anything to ever put me in the hospital again. It's been a little over 3 weeks since I came home, and last night I ate a little ice cream. I had forgotten, for a moment, what the hospital was like. I was more focused on losing weight, and I figured a little ice cream wouldn't be so bad, especially after eating no junk for more than 3 weeks. But I forgot that the reason I wasn't eating "bad" stuff wasn't to lose weight... it was to try everything possible to be healthier. Because, every moment each of has is a moment to make right decisions. To take care of ourselves. To make sure that we don't end up in the hospital. Sure, there ARE things that happen regardless. But we don't have to add to it. God gives us common sense... I know I'm going to use mine.