Food. I love my food, you see. Have an appetite like a horse. (This statement may offend some horses out there who don't want be compared to human with a ravenous appetite like a pig with the munchies. ) My incredible appetite stems from having CF and not absorbing all the calories I take in, and then there is an element of just loving food tossed in to add an extra ravenous edge. Whatever the reason, I seriously love to eat. I can be eating lunch and thinking about what I am gonna have for a snack and dinner. So when your life revolves around food, it is upsetting to think about being on a restricted diet for an indefinite amount of time.
Diet. There is a chance that after surgery that I will only be able to have a liquid diet for a few days or a week, and this is messing with my head. A day(s) with out real food (and liquid is not real food) is like a day without happiness. Soft foods will follow. And I am sure baby food is pretty tasty these days...if you are baby. Then there is a chance that I may never be able to have fizzy drinks again. Telling me that I may never be able to enjoy the bubbly goodness that is a cold Coke or Dr Pepper is like telling a little kid there is no Santa Claus - it's the truth and it won't kill you, but a little bit of you may never be the same/dies inside. Thing is, I may not be able to burp after having this surgery. This gives me two options. 1. Pour out the drink several hours before I want it so it can go flat, which kinda defeats the purpose of a fizzy drink, or 2. Have a fizzy drink and feel like I need to explode because I can't burp. I do love a fizzy drink, but I am not sure it is worth that exploding feeling.
Wind. There is a chance that I am likely to suffer from increased flatulence after the surgery. This goes back to the inability to burp. If gas can't get out one way, it gets out the other. It's simple physics. Now I have a reasonably good sense of humour, but the idea of constantly breaking wind is only a tad bit funny and I should think it gets unfunny pretty quickly.
Scars. I seem to be racking these up from surgery. Tomorrow's surgery will be done laproscopically, which means I will have lots of little scars instead of one big one. I am thankful that it won't be one big one, but several small ones don't sound as nice as no scars. I do know that the scars will eventually fade in a few years, but until they do my stomach will look like a treasure map where the red scar marks the spot...or lots of spots. It also doesn't help that I am very fair skinned. I reckon if Snow White and a vampire had a kid, then it would have my colouring....but it would also have some cool fangs and seven little dudes to help it out, so she probably wouldn't be too caught up on the pasty skin thing.
Anyway, I know all these issues are trivial. At the end of the day, I have to make every effort to look after and protect my lungs. And on the plus side, I won't be able to vomit anymore. This means my days of coughing so hard I throw up and get vomit up my nasal passages will be a thing of the past. And I won't be sorry to see the day when I no longer have to blow bits of dinner out my nose.
