This is a message to my wonderful husband Bob.
Despite your misgivings about my surgery up until I actually had it, you have been my absolute champion and I love you for that.
You didn't gripe after the date was confirmed for Dec. 27, even though you figured we would just barely have company out of the house after Christmas.
You haven't griped about me not eating or drinking with you -- in fact -- you've educated yourself as to what I can have as my stomach heals and facilitated that.
You didn't kidnap me from the parking lot of the hospital, in spite of your fantasies. Once we were inside, you were a bit nervous, but were so supportive throughout my hospital stay.
You've never encouraged me to put anything in my mouth since surgery that could derail my progress.
You've been doing the heavy lifting, and trying to make it easier on my somewhat fatigued self.
And you made me the dueling pot of decaf coffee on the other side of the kitchen each morning, so I could have it if I wanted it.
I know you think you're responsible for my weight gain, but you never forced me or even coerced me into eating anything that put the weight on. The word "No" is in my vocabulary, and I know how to use it. I may have been having just too much fun drinking adult beverages and noshing on snacks on the back deck with your fun self while we watch the Texas, Oklahoma or Lagos sunset, but I could have had other options (which I'll now have, thank you very much.) Please, please don't blame yourself.
And thanks for loving me at 150 pounds when you met me 21 years ago -- or 256 pounds, what I weighed when I went into surgery a week ago Tuesday -- or my high of 273 pounds only a few months ago.
Let's go on all those adventures we've been dreaming about and hopefully I'll be able to keep up with those lanky, long legs of your's.
I'm a lucky woman!!!
I love you -- forever!!!