At 277lbs, combating chronic pain, high heart rate issues, asthma and fibromyalgia, my body isn't interested in doing much. I've been at my sisters for a few days, and can't get down on the floor to paint, can't climb the stairs more than once or twice to help her move, can't lift, can't move, can't breathe. My mantra has been, "next year will be different." and hopefully I'll be on the other side of gastric surgery, and it will be different.
I wish I could be that mum that jumps in the water with her kids. The wife that doesn't need help do do simple things. The sister that can run all over doing whatever is needed during a move. I hate who I have become.
Thankfully, I should be hearing from the clinic soon and should have the process started.
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