afterwards

1. Ten days after the end of NaNo:
   
   I won, by dint of not caring if the chapters were in a logical order, or led seamlessly from one into another.
   
   So, this is when I'm supposed to be finishing/polishing/editing the novel, right? And I suppose reading the blogs of others is not nearly as effective in becoming a Real Writer than...actually getting off/onto my ass and writing.
   
   Damn it. I need to go back through and see which chapters lead where, and where the hell certain characters came from in the novel.
   


2. Three months after the surgery:
   
   The scars from the incisions are mostly healed, but they're still there. The worst feeling I've ever had was waking up after the surgery, my stomach and the lines of my fat folds marked yellow with whatever-the-hell-that-was and red with my own dried blood.
   
   I still have my prescription strength ibuprofen they gave me. Never let it be sad that I am a pill-popper, or whatever one calls a narcotics addict.
   
   My stomach still hurts sometimes. That scares me. I do not want to have endometriosis again. It sucks. I do not want to have a magical ovarian cyst. It also sucks. I never, ever want to have surgery ever again. My doctor was fantastic, and there are no complaints there, but that was the single worst experience I have ever put my body through. Of course, I barely make my body do anything, so...
   


3. Three months after joining WeightWatchers:
   
   I've been doing it online only, trying to keep track of my weight and what I eat. I've lost twenty pounds. I just barely exercise, sometimes doing a Carmen Electra workout, sometimes hopping on the elliptical to half-ass a speed-walk while clicking through my iPod. This is working; I'm no longer fat by any BMI measurement. I'm down to my original goal weight. I want to lose five, maybe ten more pounds. There's still a bit of jiggle, but still. I find this to be totally, totally awesome. I celebrated with doughnuts this morning.
   
   I didn't clear the diet with my doctor. I told my doctor I exercise three times a week. I've just given truth to the lie. And just before/just after the surgery, I was chatting with the nice doctor's office way too much.
   
   I expect to die of malnutrition very shortly.