Waking up on Sunday

I woke up alone this morning ...wandered around the house for a few minutes before settling down with a cup of coffee and my computer. A few hours ago my husband kissed me as he headed out the door for drill.

Sitting here, the dogs are laying around the floor at my feet, I hear the hum of the washing machine and the circling of the ceiling fan. This 'quietness' takes me back to deployment when I would wake up alone to the silence that surrounded me. Sundays reminded me that my husband was gone, that I had to to start another empty week without him. I felt less important without him, less interesting, less...and less! I honestly believe that Sundays were my most depressing day - the day when I just wish I could be swallowed up by something and put out of my misery. Oh, how I dreaded Sunday morning coming around at the time!

 Deployment hasn't been that long ago that I've forgotten what it feels like to wake up alone on Sundays. One day...it'll fade back so far that I won't remember.

One day.

Pre-Op Means There's an OP

Rich and I went to my pre-op appointment. There were papers to sign, instructions to get and pictures to take. Yes...PICTURES. The first thing they did was have me strip down and put on some tee-tiny 'undies'..more like a cotton thong and a robe. Trust me...it was NOT a pretty sight....none in the least!

The first order of business was to take pictures. "Janet" whisked me off to the photo room where I had to shed the robe, leaving me in my bra, band aid thong and not much of my dignity. The first words out of my mouth were "I'm sorry that these aren't covering much of me". Janet put me at ease but telling me that THAT was the point. After facing this way and that way while Janet snapped away, I felt even more self-conscious and ready to go through with the surgery.

Back in 'my' room I asked Rich if he had ANY reservations whatsoever? He threw it back and ask if I did. I don't and he didn't. I look at him intently to look for any hidden regrets or concerns...he's either really good at hidding them or he doesn't have any at all.

The Dr. was in and out fast as lightening "We will do this, do that, any questions?". I did have a few and he was attentive enough to answer them and let "Tammy" and us get down to the nitty-gritty of instructions, procedures, sign here and there, and money (ouch!).

I spent the majority of my work morning really thinking about what I was doing. Am I making the right decision? Is there another way? Is there anything else I can do to 'fix' this issue? These are the same questions I've asked myself for a week now...hell, for months and even a couple of years. I keep coming back to the same conclusion. It's time. I'm ready.

So the wheels are rolling now.

Sleeping on the Surface

When Rich was deployed I learned very quickly to sleep on the surface. It's like the 'new mother' sleep, where you just graze the surface of sleep but are still able to hear everything around you; never sinking deep enough to get restorative sleep.

For a year, sleeping on the surface helped me to be aware of my surroundings in the house without my husband, to hear the phone if it rang, in the early days of deployment - to hear the beep of Skype, a potential car door or knock on the door (lest something tragic happened). I didn't want to sleep through anything important. For a year I slept at the edge of sleep, never going off into the deep well of restfulness.

When Rich came home from Afghanistan, I still found myself sleeping on the surface - even though I could feel his body next to mine and sense his equal restlessness as he tried to readjust back to home life. I knew when he rolled over, I could tell by his breathing when he was awake, when he got up to walk through the house, and when he slept for brief moments at a time.

Still 4 months later I find myself unable to move beyond the surface. I've tried prescription and natural sleep aids to pull me under; they often work but leave me more tired and 'drugged' than I want. Now I just wing it and cat nap throughout the night until the wee hours of the morning; only to get up stiff and exhausted. Last night was one of those surface nights ~ I tossed and turned all night, laid there just listening, thinking, praying, and then flip over again. I even bypassed the gym in hopes of falling into one of those last-minute deep sleeps that occur between when the alarm goes off and the snooze alarm sounds. It didn't happen. I laid there wishing I'd just gotten up and gone to the gym.

How long until the military-spouse-of-a-deployed-soldier sleep pattern fades and normalcy returns?

I wonder how long it will take for my body and mind to find a way off the surface. To realize that my husband is home with me and I don't have to twinkle sleep anymore.

Newbies at the Gym

When you go to the gym 4-5 mornings a week at 4:30AM, you tend to see the same people. Mostly serious body builder-types and few (like me) folks that just want to lose a little weight, firm up and be healthy.

Every now and then a new face will pop up for a few days - even a week, then drop back off the radar once they realize that it's too early for them or the working out is just exhausting. On a rare occasion I've seen one or two folks actually stick in with the early crowd.

You can always tell the newbies at the gym. The ones who joined over the weekend and want to give it a good gung-ho effort. The go from machine to machine giving it everything they have without a thought to what it will feel like later. They also either dress like this....

or THIS....

This morning Rich and I were sitting in the sauna after our workout, looking out onto the gym floor.
We are both watching a new guy (mid-40'ish) wearing a polo, khaki shorts (with belt), calf length white socks and gym shoes.
Me: "Looks like someones first day at the gym".
Rich: "I was just watching him do curls...painful".

I keep watching the new guy fold himself into the leg press machine, do a few reps then unfold out of it to do a couple of hamstring stretches. The whole time I'm thinking that all he needs is a pocket protector to complete his wardrobe.

Rich: "At least he's started the gym"
Me: "Yep"

Coming out of the sauna I notice the 'new' chick a couple of machines over...

Me: "She must be with him".

(Okay...she wasn't REALLY dressed like this..but you could tell that she went to Walmart/Target and bought a whole new ensemble for her debute).

Maybe they will be back tomorrow in more comfortable clothing and will join the early birds!

I'm Doing It!

After years and months of research, careful thought and consideration, talking about and praying about it..Rich and I have made a decision.

I'm having having a tummy tuck in a few weeks! Yep..I am. I can't believe I just wrote those words! It's not just about vanity; as I'm sure many people (friends and family) will believe, but it's much deeper than that. I feel like I have to visually explain this...here goes...

See this picture?

and this one...

It's not ME, but it looks just like what I look like. I get rashes underneath the folds and heat rashes in the hip/thigh area where the loose skin rests when I sit down. TMI - I know!  I wear one size larger in clothing just to account for that one single area and wear heavy duty, hold-it-all-in underarmor ever single day - it's difficult when it's 100 degrees out but I have to do that. I constantly keep a rash on my stomach and lower abdominal area from the friction and heat of undergarments; it's the price I pay.

I've lost 15 pounds...yes..but that 'hooded' area has grown larger. I work out 4-5 hours every single week (and have for 10 months) - cardio, ab/core, and resistance...I maintain a healthy diet. I am doing every thing I can do to improve what has happened to my body. I have to say that I am very proud of the transformation that I've seen in my body and health since I began living a healthier lifestyle. The only thing that deflates me emotionally and mentally is "that area".

I had a consultation yesterday afternoon to talk about my particular case, the surgery, the risk and complications and the potential outcome. At first glance and feel the Doctor could feel the core that I've built but he could also feel where the muscles have separated and are unable to support the skin in the lower abdomen. It will never go away..it will continue to grow. It just hangs there...like a heavy sack of water. It's not even fat..it's just heavy skin.

No, I'm doing this to look younger...I enjoy being my age (45) and I love the person I have grown into. I didn't make this decision lightly; it's been years in the making. I'm not trying to make myself sexier; I am a sexy person, regardless of my size..but the mental weight is draining and how the emotional impact the perception I have of myself has effected me (and Rich).

Rich and I talked about it last night, slept on it, and have made the decision to move forward.

August 8th is my surgery date.

For friends and family that may read my blog- I'm not face-booking this. I hope that I have your support as I undergo this surgery. It's a big deal and it's a major surgery. Please don't talk about me behind my back about how stupid I'm being, being vain, how I'm being selfish, how expensive it's going to be, or anything else you can think of. I'm not becoming a cosmetic surgery fanatic..yes, I had my breast reduced 5 years ago..but I was a 34 EEE for God's sake...now I am a happy 34 D. I wouldn't change that surgery for anything and I know I won't regret this decision either. Please just continue to love and support me.

There...I've said it and have scheduled it. Yikes!!

Morbid Obsession

I'm going to die. I'm pretty sure that I know how... but I just don't know when. Lately I've found myself thinking about, obsessing over and in deep deep thought over dying. If family history is consistent, and short of getting hit by a bus, perish in a plane crash, or a fluke car wreck, I will die from a heart attack.

Generations and generations of heart attacks. No cancer...very few cases of natural causes...or illness-related death. Just a good old fashion heart attack.

The dream I had recently, the one where I dreamed my Mother died, was the very first dream I've had her her since she did die 19 months ago. I have yet to dream about my Dad. But the dream about my Mother completely shook me up, emotionally and mentally. I've tried so hard to ignore her death and avoid the grief - this dream brought it all back in spades. It also got me thinking about my own death. Will my children grieve for me in the same way I grieve for my own Mother? God, I hope not...I wouldn't want my children to feel this much pain. Will I know that I'm dying? I'm not sure that I want to know that; maybe it will be a quick "widow maker" - in my case a "widower maker"; as I'm almost 100% positive that I will go before my husband. Back to the grieving...will my youngest son grieve for me? What about the oldest son? They are technically my step children ~ will it be the same as it will be for my biological children? I'm thinking not. They will miss me but I don't think they will feel it so much.

To compound...or maybe because of my obsessive thoughts.. I've had another round of 'twinge' pains in my chest..for about a week now. It's not a heart attack but it sure makes me stop and wait for the other symptoms to arrive. I work out, I'm (semi) healthy (low cholesterol), I don't smoke and except for the Friday Whine/Wine Fest with The Whittens - I don't drink too much. But STILL...I wait and I worry about "what if". Then I worry about if I'm prepared. Is anyone ever prepared to die?

Pretty morbid, huh? Why did I have THAT dream of my Mother? Was it a sign? Was it a warning? Or was it just a dream?

I've got to shake this...whatever it is...feeling that I'm living with a ticking time bomb ~ then again, aren't we all?

Dream in a Dream

Last night - or was it in the early morning hours? - I had a very vivid dream that my Mother died. In my dream I feel the intensity of the grief, the tears, the overwhelming shock and sadness. In my dream I realized that I was just dreaming that she died; but then I couldn't stop the nightmare of the dream.

I woke up a little later, stared into the darkness, through the window as the first hint of daybreak was beginning. I woke up to my reality...

It wasn't just a dream after all.

She is still gone.

Forever.