On the day of my surgery, I weighed 260 lbs on my bathroom scales. That number is off because of my leg cast. This morning, after a cast change, I weighed 253.8. Nearly 7 pounds gone. But, on the day I started my diet in preparation for this surgery, I weighed 291 pounds. That would be 38 pounds gone. I’m happy so far with the weight loss.

Four of the five incisions have nearly healed. The one above my belly button still has the glue and looks rough. I’m assured by the doctor that everything looks good. I have an appointment with my surgeon’s coworker next week as my surgeon is on maternity leave. There are a couple of things that I need to discuss with him. The most important item is my iron levels have dropped dangerously low. I’m taking iron supplements so I’m waiting for my oncologist to call with an appointment for an iron infusion.

Although my iron level is low, I don’t regret having the surgery at all. The weight is coming off and I haven’t seen these numbers in several years. I haven’t had a soda or tea in three weeks, nor do I miss them. I was drinking six to eight Diet Dr. Peppers in a day. I replaced them with Sprite Zero after I realized the sodium content was lower in the Sprites. But still, I drank way too many sodas in a day.

I’m still waiting on my Crow Boot. I went to the orthopedic doctor yesterday hoping it had come in. I was told next week maybe. They put me in another cast and not a Moon Cast. Meaning I can see my toes now. By the time my Crow Boot comes in it will be four months in a cast. It has been a nightmare! I’ve mastered going down the stairs but coming back up sucks. Lately, I’ve been crawling up them. I don’t get out of breath nearly as bad doing the crawl. I don’t go anywhere I don’t have to go to. Well, I went to Bible study this past Saturday but that was just to get out of the house for a little while. My wife is not the best driver I’ve seen. She acts like a sixteen-year-old being behind the wheel for the first time. She over-corrects every move she makes. She literally scares me to death. She will make a fifteen-minute drive last over an hour because she doesn’t do interstates. Don’t get me wrong, I love my wife I just can’t handle her driving. She’s an excellent caregiver and I tell her that nearly every day. In fact, when I do get my Crow Boot, I’m taking her to the beach or to the mountains for a few days to show her my appreciation.