This time it's serious.

Well, I knew the pink cloud was going to dissolve eventually.  Nearly four weeks out from my surgery, it has definitely disappeared.

I ate it.

Now, without the fog of food, I am faced with all the stuff I was eating over.  All the stuff that was eating me.  It's up in my face, and I want to eat. 

So I've eaten.
And eaten.
Ane eaten.

Even without any restriction (still waiting for my first fill), there really is only so much I can eat without feeling sick.  MUCH less than I used to be able to eat, and before the band I wouldn't really get sick, per se.  I'd just get so full and fogged out that all I could do was sleep.

Yep, food drunk.  It's a real thing, and it isn't pretty.

So far I haven't ventured into any bread or pasta products, having heard such horror stories about them getting stuck (or worse, coming back up).   Luckily I haven't experienced a single episode of anything coming up ... it all stays down, though if I've taken in too much my stomach will hurt as though it's been stretched. 

The food is down but my "stuff" is up. 

A couple of people who care greatly for me have told me that I need to stop looking backwards, because the would-a, could-a, should-a's are not helpful, and in fact are downright nasty.  I've been advised to take the rear view mirror and break it.

"Caution, memories in mirror are closer than they appear" ...

And more dangerous, too.

Repeat to self, as many times as necessary:  I'm on a learning curve.  Things won't happen overnight.  There is no such thing as an overnight success.  Success takes time, effort and patience.

Ah, patience -- that's what I crave most of all!