7 months & 121 pounds lost (with pics)!

Can I ask, where are your friends now? The ones that seemed to give up on you and didn't believe you were really sick? Any reconciliations?

Funny you should ask that... Pretty much everyone that abandoned me is now back in my life. Some started trickling back in when they found out about the tumor, and I did get an apology from ONE person. But more starting resurfacing in my life once they found out about my weight loss. Now that I've lost A LOT of weight, people from my past are flocking to me in droves.

I get angry about it sometimes, especially when I'm having a bad day. I start thinking thoughts like, "Where the *kitten* were you when I needed you? Why do you think you deserve to be in my life now?" Sometimes I wish I could afford a shrink, just so I could have someone to vent it all to. But the more weight I lose and the happier and healthier I become, the less bitter I am. I'm just so happy that it doesn't matter anymore, and it's impossible to hold grudges. But the important thing is is that I know who REALLY cares about me. As for the rest -- I hold them at an arm's length.

The best revenge is happiness, and I've already achieved it.

I can't say anything that hasn't already been said, but wow! I had a wound closure issue with a c-section that wasn't even close to yours, but it was traumatic for me--all that gauze, lol--so I can imagine how awful that must have been. Yours is probably one of the most inspiring stories I have ever read and I am grateful you shared. Thank you!

Thank YOU!

It IS so very traumatic. I don't know if I'll ever get over it, but it certainly teaches you a lot about yourself doesn't it? There was another girl in the wound clinic that had had the same thing happen to her c-section scar as well.

I had a really hard time with it. I refused to look at the wound the entire time it was open. I never looked. Not even once. I even have pictures of its progress from week-to-week, and I still don't have the guts (forgive the pun) to look at them. One of the nurses made a rude comment about it to me, which really p*ssed me off. She said, "Why won't you look? It's your body." The other nurse could tell it made me mad, because she basically told the other nurse that she was in no place to judge, because neither one of them had ever gone through anything like it -- and that not everyone has the desire to look at wounds (since they're wound clinic nurses). All I can say is, if I had looked, I would have lost it. It was because I NEVER looked that I was able to keep my composure. My innards are something I NEVER wish to see.

It took me a while to even look at my scar for the first two months after it had closed. My bellybutton was no longer in the same spot, and I couldn't bring myself to locate it and clean it. I had to have my Mom, who is a CNA, do it for me. Maybe that sounds gross, but I couldn't help it. I was traumatized. As I started to lose the weight, though, I started to feel better and a little less 'scarred' by the experience. I finally mustered up the courage to just look and inspect it thoroughly. I check out my scar all the time now -- every time I pull down my pants. It's changed a lot since I've lost all this weight.

Hopefully your scar isn't too noticeable -- unless you consider it as a sort of trophy what you've endured, overcome, and the beautiful life you've created. Wounds that don't heal normally leave not-so-pretty scars behind. Mine is still pretty hideous, and vulnerable. Which is why I have to have scar revision surgery. But I am proud of it now, despite its ugliness. It's a reminder of how far I've come.

Wow, the size of a bowling ball? How scary--even reading it, and how BRAVE you are to TAKE YOUR LIFE BACK!! A standing ovation for what you have accomplished so far.

It definitely felt as heavy as a bowling ball. A month before it was found, I remember feeling my lower abdomen and wondering why it was so heavy. And then I felt the actual tumor. It was hard and round. I was scared. I thought maybe it was just my intestines or something, but that's just what I told myself.

Before I was transferred to a hospital more equipped to deal with it, the first doctor thought it was a softball-sized tumor that had latched onto my intestines and twisted them around. I'm not sure which I would have preferred: The detached bowling ball sized tumor or the attached softball-sized one. Probably the former, since it wasn't attached to anything (although it had completely engulfed my left ovary).