I've scanned what's written here and I have a lot of filling in to do. I'll probably transcribe some stuff from the journal I took with me to France.

The short version is that my surgery went perfectly. I had basically no pain afterwards (read: I think I took the French equivalent of Tylenol--in powdered form--three times beginning the morning after surgery). My incisions are healing well. I'm eating fine.

I'm supposed to wait two months until I have my first fill so that everything can totally heal and get happy. That fits my plans perfectly! I'm all about taking it slow. Meanwhile, I'm back at work and doing well there. I guess you could say that I'm pretty fortunate! I'm just grateful to be aware of it.

One thing that has manifested in a big way during this process is new friendships! I've met some wonderful women in the online communities related to weight loss surgery in general, as well as agb surgery in specific. Several of them seem like lifetime friends and are the kind of women I'd always hoped to know. It's caused me to step back and realize how much I've become the kind of woman I'd dreamt of being. That insight is worth quite a lot.

The other insight, which is really a larger one, is about the role of love in my life and how, basically, everything boils down to love in one way or another and how measuring the quality of that love is a great way to take a barometric reading of my ongoing health. Who knew?

Copyright 2002 Seasmoke All rights reserved

A friend commented on the joys of eating with her fingers. Another friend of hers told her it was the mark of a very sensual person.

Multiple thoughts. In no particular order.

When I was a kid, my family volunteered each week. Over the years, we did it at a variety of placesm--usually for at least a couple of years at each place. Round about junior high age, we were volunteering at a half-way house for high-functioning retarded adults. Most of them had jobs and/or could do most things themselves but needed the support of a semi-structured environment. The non-retarded staff lived there, too.

One of the women was blind. And I adored her. She was sweet and funny and wise. She always ate with her fingers. Not for lack of dexterity but because she said that those were the utensils God had given her and they were sufficient. :)


I love eating with my hands and used to do it all the time until a man I was seeing let me know that it was "gross". Then I just fell out of the habit. But it's been a secret pleasure since and probably the reason I revel in foods that make it socially acceptable, like string cheese. :D


I like the idea of it being sensual. I'm a very kinesthetically oriented person.


But.


If I already do it, what's left for me? Putting my face down onto the plate?


Copyright 2002 Seasmoke All rights reserved.