Surgery. What a word. Spooks the hell out of me. I really, really, really wish I didn’t have such vivid memories of my past surgical recoveries. The smell of alcohol, iodine, blood, and saline. The way every whisper of a breath feels like a sledgehammer to the chest and ribs. Feeling the searing, white hot, blast of pain tear through my whole torso every time I need to be turned. Relearning how to walk. The fear. The worry. Goddamn memories.
Still, I feel compelled to press on. I hope for surgery and a better outcome. The plain truth is I am disintegrating. I have been, for almost ten years. I can’t believe it’s been that long since my weight loss began. I’ve tried a LOT of stuff to gain, but so far nothing can actually make me digest any quicker. I’m withering. Doctors and I are on board that it’s a mechanical problem. Fix the back, and hopefully fix the stomach. If I do nothing, my back WILL continue to get worse. Gravity ain’t one to be messed with.
Despite my family life doing well, I still have tons of frustration dealing with my inability to gain or improve my physical condition. It’s terribly uncomfortable feeling “stuck.” And I’ve been stuck for years. I have to keep going; have to keep improving. If surgery is my shot then I must take it. I cannot quit. Not now. I want more.
What if I die? What if I’m walking into my own death sentence? I don’t want to die. I have to be a dad and a husband. A son and a brother. No, can’t think of death. You’ll make it. Don’t be stupid. You’ll be fine.
Here Lies [Me].
Fuck. Stop that. What if I wake up like a vegetable? What if I’m quadriplegic? Wouldn’t death be the better option then? Shut up, you’re going to be okay. You’ll survive, like you always have. You press on, you keep going. You don’t give up. Right? Right?
I have so much to live for. So many things yet to see. A daughter to send off to college one day. I have to be around. I WILL be around. It’s time to strap on my boots and go in for the push. Screw being stuck. Enough of that. Keep fighting. Keep going. Don’t quit. You don’t know how.