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Wednesday. Another beautiful day (in May), back from breakfast at the usual place, lunch later with some of the old office crew downtown. The bathroom scale this morning showed a five pound loss over these last couple of months, this after losing a bunch of weight in the three weeks after the operation. It's odd to watch and experience. I can tell the stomach reassembling itself is having an effect. I've been losing weight for some time before the operation, but two and a half pounds in a month is twice what's been normal for this last year and a half. I no longer think of finishing a large portion of food anymore. It no longer “feels” right, which is an imperfect description, but the best I can come up with to describe it.
In buying take out from the dim sum restaurant near the apartment, for example, the portions they serve are large enough now to make two meals, sometimes three (if I get them with rice) and there's really no effort on my part involved in understanding when I've had enough. It's almost, I suspect, like being inside the skin of someone who's never been overweight in their life and they've never been overweight because that's the just way they were wired together. An odd peek into a hitherto unknown reality and, true or not, maybe it will give me tools to use when this stomach has finally settled. If it settles. No one at the hospital made any promises.
So the stomach's still a problem?
Actually no. If it stays exactly the way it is now, exactly the way it's been for the last few weeks, that would be fine. And if it causes me to eat more slowly (lest it want to come back up) and to eat less than I have in the past, then where's the problem? I'm on a roller coaster. There's no steering wheel. You hope they've kept the tracks in repair. Best to just hold on tight and see what you're still able to see as the world flashes by.
Later. A bus ride downtown, lunch with eleven of the remaining crew, a walk back to the apartment stepping out and working up a reasonable sweat by the time I arrived. Yes, I missed the bus, but didn't regret it once I'd made it home, getting all that good exercise in for the day and everything.
My uneventful packages arrived both yesterday and today with some still floating out there somewhere in the back order void. One of them contained four packages of jockey shorts. Uneventful, yes, but necessary if you need them and indeed I wouldn't order them if I didn't need them. Allows me to do the laundry at longer intervals, yes it does, and that, perhaps you've noticed, is important here in Oakland. Some doohickeys for the strobes: one last remaining universal clamp and two Gary Fong light diffusers. I do not believe one becomes excited over the arrival of clamping devices or light diffusers, although they're very useful items. And two books: Bloggers on the Bus: How the Internet Changed Politics and the Press and All the Art That's Fit to Print (And Some That Wasn't): Inside The New York Times Op-Ed Page, both of which do get the blood up and pumping for obvious reasons, each recommended by people I trust.
You're actually going to read these books?
One's full of pictures and the other is, well, full of what you find on blogs.