Finally . . .

My bariatric surgery is scheduled for September 10.

I'm kind of stunned, really.

I've thought about/pursued/fought for/filed appeals for this surgery for more than 10 years now. Funny how easy it has been this time around. The insurance company didn't bat an eye, and I've been able to easily extract myself from work long enough to have the surgery and recuperate.

I'm saying my goodbyes to alot of things . . . my favorite foods, my back pain, my big clothes, my cabinet full of medications, my lethargy, my relucatance to move around, my hesitation to engage in exercise, my unconscious eating, all of it.

I think I'm ready, but then again, its hard to know what to expect. I've read stories, talked with others, read MORE stories, but I think it's kind of like being pregnant. You can hear all about it, but the only way you can KNOW what it's like is to actually BE pregnant. Kind of like that, I'm sure.

The kids are excited for me. They keep talking about what we'll be able to do next year, and it dawned on me that my weight has not only stopped ME from being active, it has stopped them, too. I guess generational obesity really is genetic and environmental. I'm hoping that my recovery from obesity will give me the energy and strength to instill a love of movement and exercise in my kids that I have never had.

We have big plans: water parks next summer. Travel. Skating. Bowling. Riding our bikes at the park. Riding rollercoasters at Six Flags. Things that I haven't been able to do.

Some people would probably view bariatric surgery as being hauled off to the gallows, never enjoying anything again. I'm just the opposite . . . I'm looking forward to escaping this prison and being set free.

42 years old. It's about time.