The Agony and the Ecstasy

Urgh.

Waiting and prepping for VSG ain't for sissies. I keep hoping the back-and-forth pendulum swing of excitement, doubt, worry, anticipation, excitement, repeat ad nauseam will stop--or at least slow down--but so far, no go.  It's a great way to make yourself feel pretty well discombobulated.  Don't get me wrong, I am still all in favor of the need for this surgery.  It's not a passing interest, and I am doing my best to educate myself and absorb all the information I can about the multiple ways my life and eating habits MUST change in order for me to have any long-term success, post-op.

That's my agony.  The waiting, the anticipatory worry.  The not knowing exactly when this all will fall into place so that I can say, "my operation date is _____________" and make all the arrangements I need to make ahead of time.  Right now, we're in the hurry-up-and-wait phase.  Crayzee making, is what it is.  Deprived of hard, cold information, my imagination goes haywire and sets me up for stressing over all the things I can't possibly control.  Like worrying over complications; worrying about inevitable hair loss; worrying over whether I'll be a relatively fast healer (as I was for each of my Cesarean sections a decade and a decade and a half ago), or whether I'm going to still be feeling like the north-pointing end of a south-walking cow weeks after I'm home.  Worrying over what my operation date is going to be, and whether I'll be able to heal quickly enough to be at 100% efficiency when school reopens in September.  Ideally, I want my procedure done during the summer--but whether or not that happens is dependent on things like how quickly I'm able to get through all the appointments and classes that are required, which, again, I can't really control; I have to take 'em when they're available.

Achieving a zen-like calm is not as easy as you might think.

The ecstasy is at least not making me toss and turn at night.  Mostly, I'm ecstatic about the way I hope to feel and look, a few months post-op.  A year afterwards, I'm expecting to have the BEST summer ever.  I intend to get out in the world, go to the beach during actual operating hours instead of waiting until after dinnertime so that fewer people see me in a bathing suit.  I'm wondering what it might feel like to be able to buy gorgeous renfaire garb in a much smaller size, what it might be like to be SO proud of how I look in a narrower bodice, and  maybe even wear a *gasp* calf-baring skirt.  To be able to buy boots that aren't made for "wide calves".  To be able to shop for work clothes and jeans and cute tops at a store that ISN'T plus sizes only.  Wow. 

That ecstasy is going to be what I cling to when I'm in pain, when I'm questioning my choice; when I'm feeling overwhelmed by new eating rules, when I'm tempted to make old, familiar, bad eating choices and avoid exercise.  I'm going to keep the image of a more slender me right up in front of my eyes, even before it's real.  And that's how I'm gonna make it become real. 

What do you cling to for mental strength and motivation?  Comments, please!