With all the crap I’ve had to deal with THIS feels almost vain.
When I’m in a wheelchair full-time and live with only one fully functional side,it seems silly to get crabby about my weight.
I should be glad just to be alive.
I should be happy that I’m with my family and not in a hospital bed.
I have had a second, third, eleventy-th chance to live and I shouldn’t forget that.
It doesn’t mean that when pants don’t fit or my husband points out that I’m gaining weight, I don’t still manage to feel bad.
It’s hard to explain how someone who never sees the back of her own legs can get upset about ten pounds.
But I am.
I guess if I have to be handicapped, I could at least be a skinny handicap.
Since I’m not, I’ll have to have a consoation cupcake.