Today was the first day that I felt truly awesome post-op. I am 9 days out having my gastric sleeve. Who has to go and do and do the stupidest thing there is to do? This girl! I have been hating this damned bedroom. I can’t stand sitting still. I want to go dancing. I want to go to the beach. I miss my friends. Hell I miss having a clean house. SO of course, I feel great and I start catching up on cleaning & a make my kids breakfast for the first time in a week. I am happy to be somewhat normal human mommy this morning. I rest of a bit. Sitting on the recliner. Working on my next blog. Not this one… because well, this was just too stupid I had to post this one first. So I hop out of my chair like I got boosters in my ass and I didn’t have surgery, and then… POP. Oh MY GAWD! Literally my abdomen went pop. That fucking hurt!!! The last time I felt that much pain was when I tore a ligament in my elbow when I was 18. I mean giving birth didn’t even hurt like that. I’ve had dozens of surgeries, pleurisy, pulmonary embolisms, c-sections…. yeh they hurt, but they didn’t make me cry. I’m kinda proud that I’m fairly tough. But GEEZZZUUSSS Christ on a Crutch this really hurts! I cried like a baby! Yeh, cause I think I’m Super Fucking Woman all the damn time. I didn’t even ask Ian for help, and he was only 3 feet away! I call the doctors because I think popped a stiches. No. They inform me that I am not the only idiot. That I most likely ripped my muscle in the area that they just cut through when they too my stomach out. It happens all the time. People get excited that they feel better. They lecture me about taking it easy for 3 weeks. That I had major abdominal surgery. If it gets worse to go to the ER. I’m not sure if it’s comforting or not that I am not the only village idiot that rips their abdomen right after surgery. Being with me must being annoying sometimes. I really do pitty Ian and my significant others having to deal with my bloody-minded ways.