Genuinely not a muffin top..


Genuinely not a muffin top..

I would just like to point out before this post goes any further that this picture (which looks more and more gross the longer I look at it) isn’t just a fat roll on my stomach poking over my jeans…

the point of this post was to show the weird “V” shaped-ness that my stomach has decided to take on, the scar skin I guess is still a bit tighter? I Don’t really understand. But whenever I try to show people they dismiss it as a no big deal, but I don’t feel like anyone can see it properly aside from through my, birds eye view. Hence this photo, I had to sit down to get my jeans in the background so it would show up – but there is a definite indent where the scar is…im hoping its going to go? You cant really tell when im upright or walking around, but I keep noticing it when I am sat down, and its just weird… anyone else had anything similar?!

I Was flicking through the pictures on my phone the other day, and I have a suprising number of my scar and stomach – definitely not a usual photo album! I was looking and I was proud of them, and of myself for putting them on this blog. I wear anything from a size 8 to 10 to 12 depending on the shop or clothing, I know I am not fat but I am not skinny either. I am not well toned or skinny even though I try to go to the gym. And I am guilty of skipping the gym for a takeaway curry with my friends- I am a normal person. I have my insecutirites putting pictures (like this) of my stomach up, for me it definitely isn’t the kind of “body shots” you see a lot of girls posting these days, but I think its a real and honest view, if nothing else.

Anyway, scar is healing well – last bit of surgery sting / stitch that was sticking up came off yesterday, very exciting!

Hope you are all having a good week, and please keep on liking / following the blog! So close to having 50 followers, which would be totally unbelievable!

Keep smiling,

H x

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one month ago today


I might do a longer post later, I’m not sure.

But, 20/12/2013 I had my operation, one month ago today. I cant believe it, seems so long ago, another lifetime that I was waiting in that hospital ward holding my mums hand and watching the minute on the clock tick by and waiting, waiting. I remember waking up in recovery. I remember being given my morphine button. I remember getting wheeled back to my room – we had to go in a lift and the bed bumped in and out of the lift doors. I remember seeing my mum for the first time. I remember asking if I got a stoma bag. I remember it. But it feels so long ago.

 

Im nostalgic about it in a weird way I guess, I feel like a big thing that was in my life is over, in terms of the operation. A huge step in my life has been taken, forwards I hope; and of course I am glad, but it is a weird feeling. I hope that, in a weird selfish way, my scar remains visible for a while longer (which I know it will) but because I get caught in this weird place – one where I am stuck between not wanting people to treat me differently and treat me ill, but also wanting them to know I am ill (or was ill – hopefully its mainly in the past) and accept that fact when I have a bad day and not just think I am moaning. With the hospital and the surgery and the scar I was no longer in that place, I was accepted as having been ill and weaker and needing to recover, and I am not trying to say I want that, or need it in my life; but it felt good to have proof and to not be constantly trying to justify how I felt when I was down. Its the weirdest feeling, and one I never thought I would have, or struggle so much in expressing. It seems an almost childish desire in a way; a need to be recognised and supported with sympathy when I need it, but not to be pandered to when I don’t… is that possible? I hope to find that balance.

 

Maybe I wont need another post later…I hope that those ramblings make some sense to some of you, I never feel like I write in an eloquent fashion compared to many bloggers out there, but my aim is more to get honest thoughts and feelings out onto this space, as opposed to well written ones with good sentence structure!

 

One month can change a lifetime.

 

H x