It's been seven months
Since I had my surgery;
Seven months
Of challenge
And change,
Seven months
Of relearning
How to eat
And take care
Of myself,
And seven months
Of learning
New ways
Of dealing with stress
That don't involve
Food.
Now,
As I look in the mirror,
I see someone
Both familiar
And strange,
For the last time
I had cheek bones,
And a single chin,
Was years ago,
Long before
I acquired so many
Wrinkles.
(Where did they come from,
Anyway?)
It feels good
To be able to walk
Without threat of collapse,
And to wear clothes
Half the size
I used to wear;
And it's such a relief
To be able to visualize
A real future filled
With joyful promise
Instead of the promise
Of an early death.
It took me ten years
To reach the decision
To have the surgery
And now I can only wonder,
What took me so long?